A Kiss of Blood(36)

Then again, Micah was a vampire.

Swallowing her trepidation, she closed the door behind her and descended the stairs to the hard-packed dirt floor. Lifting her torch, she saw that the path led out from the stairs a good hundred feet, lined on either side by rows and rows of prison cells.

Though she listened, she heard no noise. Another chill skittered down her spine, and magic began to buzz lightly beneath her skin as she strode down the path, glancing into each cell. Empty, every one. Until she reached the very last.

She found the old fae lying on a pallet on the floor. He appeared small in stature, his hair almost gone, his skin as wrinkled and leathery as any ancient male's, though this one was far more ancient than any she'd come across in the real world. He was wearing worn brown trousers and a flannel shirt that looked as if it hadn't left his body in several decades. His feet were bare, and he had one arm flung across his eyes. What a lonely, sad way to die.

"Douse the damned light," he growled.

"Vintry?"

"What do you want?"

Spying a torch holder on the wall a few cells down, she planted the torch and returned to Vintry's cell, now cast into shadow.

"Tarellia said you might be able to help me."

"She lied."

Dying and bitter, just as Micah said. Not that she could blame him. "I know you'd just as soon Vamp City failed. But what will happen to the other fae if it does?" she asked softly.

"What do I care?"

Biting back her frustration, Quinn launched into the truth. "I'm a sorceress, Vintry. Apparently the sorceress. Maybe the only one left."

The old fae's arm moved, his head turning to peer at her through rheumy eyes. "You?" He couldn't have put any more derogatory disbelief into the word if he'd tried. The little prick.

"It's true. And my brother has somehow gotten tangled up in my magic. He's suffering from a magic sickness, and if Vamp City dies, he will, too. I'll do anything to keep that from happening."

He turned back, covering his eyes again. "I can't help you. Go away."

Not a chance. "Tarellia believes I have both Blackstone and Levenach blood. That my Blackstone magic is being obstructed by the Levenach curse. That as long as it is, I'll never have any real control of my magic. She believes you can help me break my Blackstone magic free of the curse."

Once again, Vintry lowered his arm and peered at her, but this time, the look on his face was different. Almost intrigued. "Blackstone and Levenach, eh? What's your name, girl?"

"Quinn Lennox."

His eyes narrowed, but he was no longer scowling at her. "Do you have the key to my cell?"

"No."

Her heart leaped as he pushed himself slowly and stiffly from the bed, his body bent and arthritic. "Damned aging," he muttered as he crossed the floor and gripped the bars tight with one hand as if to stabilize himself. Then he held out his hand. "Put your hand through, girl. This might hurt."

She eyed him warily, but did as he asked. Wrinkled, gnarled, surprisingly warm fingers curled around hers as the old fae closed his eyes. Quinn stared at him, noting the profusion of age spots, the wisps of hair, the hook of a nose. His ears, she noted, had the slightest point at their tips, making her smile. He really was an elf. She was holding hands with an elf.

Suddenly, his eyes snapped open. He stared at her, his eyes, amazingly, filling with tears as he began to smile. "I thought I'd missed you."

"Excuse me?" She resisted the desire to pull her hand away.

"You are the one foretold, girl. The Healer." He patted her hand as she stared at him in stunned confusion. A gleam leaped into his eyes. "Is the snake with you?"

"Arturo? Yes. How . . . ?" Maybe Micah had mentioned him.

Suddenly, the old fae's eyes went wide, and he jerked away, stumbling back. But as he stared at her, his face softened with understanding, and he began to laugh. "Glamour."

She jerked her gaze down to her hand, her pale true hand. "Shit."

Vintry waved his hand. "Return with the snake, and him alone, and I will help you. He must be here, too." He turned away and began making his way back to the bed. "Now go!" he admonished, though his voice was warm this time. "Take the light with you. And don't delay, or I'll be dead." He began to cackle.

Quinn turned away, relieved, and more than a little dazed. The Healer? At least Vintry had agreed to help. The trouble was going to be getting Arturo away from Fabian in time. Oh, and the small fact that she'd lost her glamour. Again.

At least her room was close by. Quinn made her way swiftly up the stairs to the pantry, briefly debating whether to leave the torch in the prison instead of taking it with her, and decided against it. Vintry didn't want the light, and she'd need it to make her way through the pantry since she'd removed the light that had shone into the space in the first place.

Hearing nothing through the closed door, Quinn opened it slowly, wishing to hell she still looked like Neo's sister, then slipped into the pantry and closed the door behind her. The torch holder sat on the wall just across the hall, taunting her. Because as long as she held the torch, there was no hiding.

Squaring her shoulders, she stepped into the hallway and nearly ran into two passing vampire guards. Dammit.

"Who are you?" one of them demanded.

Quinn froze, heart pounding as she debated her options and came up with not a single decent one. Throw the torch at them and run? Right. Vampires were lightning fast. She could demand to be taken to Arturo, but admitting she'd been hiding behind a glamour, that he'd had the sorceress with him all along, would, best case, get them thrown out of the castle. Worst case . . . she didn't even want to think about it.

Going with instinct, she threw the torch at the nearest guard and pulled her switchblade. In the blink of an eye . . . a human eye . . . the torch was back in its holder, her blade was gone from her hand, and her wrist was caught tight in a vampire's hold. Too damn fast.

The vamp who held her began to smile. "She's a freshie, Bill. What's a freshie doing sneaking around our pantry?" He leered at her. "Trying to steal food from us, girlie?"

Quinn's heart began to pound. Magic started to tingle beneath her skin, but not quickly enough.

The guard turned to the hallway she'd first come down and pulled her along with him, striding fast and sure as if he knew exactly where to take her.

Her mind grasped for ideas even as she worried that Arturo would feel her emotions, her fear, and come for her, giving himself away. There was no fighting the vampires to get free. And she could think of nothing she could say that would help her. With dismay, she realized where the guard was leading her seconds before they entered the orgy dojo. The smell of sex hit her hard, along with the coppery scent of blood. Almost every vampire in the room had his fangs in someone, if not his cock.

Including Arturo.

She found him on the chaise where they'd metaphorically blown the roof off with their orgasms, a naked woman draped across his lap, his arm around her waist as he drank from her neck. He, at least, was fully clothed and appeared to be doing nothing but drinking.

Though he continued to feed, his eyes lifted as she entered the room, spearing her. She felt, rather than saw his surprise and his frustration with her. If she'd stayed in the room where he'd left her, losing her glamour wouldn't have mattered. No one would have seen her. But that was water under the proverbial bridge and she was in a boatload of trouble.

Though Arturo continued to watch her, he made no move even to acknowledge her. And he wouldn't, she realized. He couldn't without implicating himself.

The guard steered her around the edges of the room, toward the dais, where Fabian was being straddled by two women-one over his groin, riding him, the other over his mouth.

At the base of the dais, Quinn's captor stopped, silent and waiting for his master's attention. After less than a minute, the woman straddling Fabian's face began to sway, her skin looking alarmingly pale. With horror, Quinn realized Fabian had been eating her in the truest sense of the word, his fangs sunk deep between her legs.

Fabian gripped her tight, holding her against his mouth even as she collapsed, unconscious.

He was draining her dry! With his fangs sunk into her femoral artery, he would, within minutes, if he could drink that fast. It reminded her of the way some of the kids used to shotgun beers in college, opening a hole in the bottom of the can so that it poured quickly down their throats.

Fabian, she thought, stomach turning, was into shotgunning humans.

As she watched in horror, he tossed the woman onto the floor, like the empty vessel she now was. Blood running down his cheek, he grabbed the hips of the woman who fucked him, driving into her vampire-fast. But as he caught sight of Quinn, he slowed, then stopped.

Raising himself up on one elbow, he glanced at her guard.

"Who have we here?"

The magic beneath her skin began to sting.

"We found a freshie raiding the pantry. She must have snuck in from outside."

Fabian's smile bloomed slow and dangerous. "Steal from me, would you?" He waved his hand at the woman still attempting to ride him. "Go." Without hesitation, she pushed up and off him, moving away from the chaise.

Fabian sat up, his erection still thick and hard. "Bring her here."

Quinn's breath caught, the magic bubbling. If she didn't get control, her eyes were going to glow, and the gig was going to be up. The sorceress revealed.