A Kiss of Blood(27)

But she and Arturo were in a world of hurt.
                       
       
           



       Chapter Thirteen





Sweat ran down the sides of Quinn's face, sliding through her hair and between her bare breasts. If she'd been dressed, her clothes would be drenched with perspiration, but the wolves had declared that she had to be as naked as they were for their moon ritual. Standing in the center of a circle ringed by five bonfires, she wasn't sure she minded the lack of clothes. She certainly didn't stand out. And, technically, it wasn't even her body on display. Micah's glamour had yet to wear off.

No, of far more concern was the fact that she was tied to a stake in the middle of the open ground, unable to run if any of the three dozen wolves racing around her decided to turn and take a bite out of her instead. Her only protection were the four human werewolves-the alpha and his friends, who stood with their backs to her, presumably to keep the other wolves from getting too close.

Though it was called a moon ritual, Quinn could see no sign of the moon peeking through the thick layer of clouds above. The breeze blew lightly. She wondered at the wisdom of building open fires in a land filled with dead trees.

The alpha began to chant in a deep, rhythmic voice, words that hardly sounded human. As she watched, the racing wolves slowly stopped, then began to change into human form, taking up the chant. One of them ran outside the hot, hot circle, returning moments later with a large white bucket filled with something.

Paintballs.

Quinn watched in bemusement as the wolves picked out one at a time, squeezing the paint on their naked skin in streaks and swirls of yellow, blue, and red. Paintballs. Quinn shook her head. The werewolves' ancestors were either rolling in their graves or cackling with glee. Even life as a primitive could be enhanced by modern invention, she supposed.

As the chanting grew louder, the wolves slowly abandoned the paintball bucket, dividing into five separate groups, each one encircling one of the bonfires, dancing around it.

Quinn's skin began to itch. The magic beneath her flesh had died down after she'd slammed Gunroth and Peach Fuzz back when they'd tried to attack her in her prison cell, and she had yet to be able to build it up again. During the interminable wait for midnight, she'd tried a dozen ways to convince the alpha to let her and the vampire go, but with her hands tied and her magic unresponsive, she'd had little leverage and made no headway.

Her magic was back, finally, but in a way she'd never felt before. Instead of crawling beneath her skin, the power danced across the surface, a sensation growing more uncomfortable by the minute as it turned to a feeling of pinpricks, then pinches.

Quinn gasped as the pinches turned increasingly painful.

"What's happening?" she demanded.

"You will share your power with us." The alpha reached into the bucket and pulled out several paintballs. He tossed one each to his companions, who began to paint their bodies as the rest of the pack had already done.

"What do you mean by share?" She was beginning to feel as if invisible hands were attempting to pry the skin from her body.

The alpha met her gaze, his eyes hard. "Ancient sorcerers shared their power with the wolves on a regular basis. You will do the same."

But the ancient sorcerers' power hadn't been chained by a curse.

"They did so willingly!" She presumed so, anyway. "Free me and my companion, and I'll give you what you want. Hurting me, perhaps even killing me, will buy you nothing."

But the alpha ignored her as he and his four compatriots began to circle her, chanting words different from the others'. Discomfort turned to true pain until tears pooled in her eyes, and she was struggling to breathe.

"Stop this!" she cried.

Suddenly, the alpha was in her face, his visage ferocious as he pressed sweaty palms against her sweatier temples. "You hold back on us, sorceress," he growled. "Give it up!"

"I'll give you nothing if you're going to hurt me!"

His hands turned to fire, burning through her skull, and she screamed from the pain. She fought to throw him back with her mind, struggled to pull away from his fiery hands . . .

And suddenly the light went out. The night went silent.

The alpha jerked back, his hands lifting from her sweat-soaked skin. "What did you do?"

"What happened?" She couldn't see him, couldn't see anything but the flames from the bonfire that felt permanently etched onto the backs of her eyelids. Good grief, if he weren't standing here with her, she'd suspect she'd died.

But, no, she was still tied to the stake, her skin still burning, though the pain was becoming less and less with every passing second. Despite the lack of light, the heat and scent of the bonfires lingered as if they'd been here and were now gone. As if something or someone had sent them all away, wolves, fires, everything.

"What did you do?" the alpha growled again.

"I didn't do anything!" Not intentionally, anyway. Could she have done this? And what was this?

She heard the alpha move away, heard him stumble back, swearing. "There are walls all around us. You've caught us in some kind of trap. Some kind of bubble."

Quinn's eyes went wide, a chill sliding down her spine. A bubble. Wasn't that exactly what Vamp City was, only on a far grander scale? Was that what she'd done here, duplicated the small space around her? What if this was how Phineas Blackstone had discovered his own ability to create other worlds?

As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she began to see shimmers all around her, like black opals. The walls of the bubble, the walls of the magic. Good God Almighty, she had power.

Against that opalescent darkness, a shadow moved, and she felt a hand grip her jaw hard.

"Undo it!"

Not only did she have power, she had leverage. "Untie me."

He growled. "Perhaps I'll just kill you."

"Killing Blackstone didn't undo Vamp City. If killing me fails, you'll be stuck here forever."

Silence. The hand disappeared. "You've created an alternate world," he breathed.

"Apparently so."

"How?"

Ha. "Magic. Untie me."

"If you created this place, you can escape it."

"I can also take you with me. If I want to." Probably. She'd pulled humans through sunbeams; there was no reason to think she couldn't pull a werewolf out of a bubble she'd created assuming magic worked with any kind of logic whatsoever. "But first, we're going to come to an agreement."

She saw the dark shape of the male move against the black opal background and felt his breath on her cheek. His hard body suddenly pressed against hers, reminding her in a startlingly raw manner that they were both naked. His thick penis brushed her thigh. It was flaccid at the moment, but she suspected a determined male could change that.

A shiver of fear rippled through her, but she pushed it away. She'd waited too long to get the upper hand. She wasn't about to let him steal it now.

"You're in no position to negotiate," the wolf alpha growled.

Quinn snorted. "Au contraire. I'm in a damn good position to negotiate. Now that I've created one of these things, there's a good chance I can make more. The next one might just catch your entire pack."

He pressed against her hard, his menace barely controlled. "You will release me now, sorceress."

"Well, here's the thing, dude. The only way you're getting out of here is if I take your hand and lead you out. Which means you're going to release me. Now. My arms are tired."

He growled low, but a moment later, he was gone and she felt his fingers pulling the ropes from her wrists. The moment she was free, he grabbed her and jerked her toward the nearest wall.

Quinn felt the magic pulling to suck her through, but she pushed against it and felt the male at her side stumble back even as he kept tight hold on her.

"We're not leaving until I say we are," she told him smoothly, stifling a smile. She rather enjoyed having the werewolf under her control. For the moment.

The alpha's fingers dug into her arms, and he jerked her around, pulling her hard against him, letting her feel the erection that now protruded from his body.

"I will hurt you, sorceress." But he was holding the losing hand, now, and they both knew it.

"See, that's where your threat goes awry, wolf man. I know what your ultimate plan is, to hand me over to Cristoff. And there is nothing you can threaten me with . . . nothing . . . that is worse than what he'll do to me if he gets his hands on me again. Besides, we both know you can't kill me, or even hurt me badly enough to risk it. Because if I don't renew the magic, if Vamp City fails, you and your pack are toast."

She felt the rhythm of his breathing change, the menace easing down, the frustration skyrocketing. But the hard grip on her arms didn't change.

If he were another male, she might try a more diplomatic approach, a bit of stroking his male ego, perhaps, or injecting a bit of friendliness into the exchange. But real wolves responded to authority and power above all, and she suspected werewolves did, too. Any show of niceness would only be construed as weakness, and that was a thing she couldn't afford.

"We both want the same thing, wolf-to get Vamp City's magic renewed. You've seen what I can do. And I can assure you, my power is growing by the day. I've barely tapped into it. I could become a powerful ally. Or I will become a dangerous enemy. Your choice."