Roaring Shadows: Macey Book 2 (The Gardella Vampire Hunters 8)(46)

Sebastian lunged toward her again, strong and vampire fast, and Macey caught him with her hand, holding him off, pushing him away desperately. She dropped the stake in her other hand and fished down inside her corset, dragging the rosary out just as Sebastian yanked her arm away, twisting it brutally down and aside.

She cried out in pain and triumph, whipping out the rosary at the very last moment.

“Stop!” she cried, hoping and praying that somehow this delicate string of beads would somehow miraculously do what the massive silver cross did not. She dangled it in front of his face. “You can’t do this. You don’t want to do this, Sebastian, you have to be strong—”

Sebastian froze. He stilled—and it was the strangest, eeriest thing the way he stopped there, a sudden calm in the midst of a mindless, demonic storm.

“No,” he whispered, his chest heaving, his eyes wild…but no longer glowing. He reached to touch it with a trembling hand. “How…”

“Sebastian?” Macey panted, still waiting for something to change. She didn’t release the miraculous object, even as she sagged against the wall behind her. She held it in front of her, and the object seemed almost to hypnotize Sebastian.

“Macey.” Grady was there. Even here, in the shadows she could see he was weak, blood-soaked, and had an expression of horror etched on his face. He was holding a stake at the ready, and he looked at Sebastian, then at her. “Is it…is he…?”

“Macey,” Sebastian whispered at the same time. And, blessedly, his eyes were his own again, his voice normal.

“Have you completed your tasks already, then?” came an insistent voice as Iscariot’s shadow loomed over the opening.

He couldn’t see them now—they’d edged off to the side in the shadows, and the master vampire was shining a light down in an attempt to illuminate the pit.

“Here,” Grady said, grabbing Macey’s arm—and he put himself between her and Sebastian, giving the blond man a wary, measured look. “This way. Now.” He gestured to the wall as he brandished the stake in his hand. He’d found a way out.

“But they’ll see us leave,” she muttered, stopping to look up at Iscariot. “You take Sebastian through there—they think I’ve done what they asked.”

“Are you bloody insane?” Grady said, just as Sebastian growled, “Don’t be a damned fool.”

“But they’ll—”

Grady held out his hand and there was a small paper packet in his palm. “I’ve got this. It’ll hide us for a minute.”

She didn’t know what it was, but she didn’t have to know. She trusted him. But could she trust Sebastian now? Macey looked at him, still uncertain about his sudden change. He just seemed so back to normal, other than the extreme exhaustion and pain he was experiencing.

Then she turned her attention to where the vampires were all leaning over the rim of the pit looking down into the space, then she nodded to Grady.

“Whatever it is, do it now.” She tottered to the edge of the circle of light, exaggerating her panting while staggering as if she were mortally injured. She looked up at Iscariot, speaking as if she were completely destroyed, “Sebastian…he’s… I can’t…he…he…”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Grady as he moved his arm sharply. There was a snick, then the faint, pungent smell of tinder.

“Now,” he said, and Macey staggered out of the light into the shadows, moving toward the opening that yawned like a black hole in one side of the pit. Just as she passed by, Grady tossed something toward the middle of the space.

Macey stumbled through the opening—which she noticed vaguely was a doorway—with Sebastian on her heels. There was a soft boom, and suddenly dark smoke filled the air, smothering the pit. But they’d already burst through the exit, and Grady slammed it closed behind them.

“What the hell was that?” Macey asked Grady, even as she glanced worriedly at Sebastian. He was still weak and still needed to feed—how much longer until he succumbed to the weakness again? They had to get him back to The Silver Chalice.

They.

She and Grady?

What an odd thought.

“I don’t know which way to go,” she muttered as Grady bumped into her from behind.

“This way,” he said, taking her arm and directing her through a warren of low-ceilinged rooms and corridors used for moving props, stage equipment, and actors.

Not far behind them were the sounds of angry exclamations—it would only be moments before Iscariot and the others were on their trail. Macey pushed Sebastian ahead of her, placing him between herself and Grady as the reporter led them quickly through the underground of the theater.

Get out now, figure the rest of this out later, she told herself.

Finally, somehow, they came to a heavy door marked EXIT. With a rough push, Grady opened it to the dark, stormy night and Macey and Sebastian stumbled out into a slick, shadowy alley.

They slammed the door closed behind them. “They’re right behind us,” Macey gasped. “Let’s run!”

“Wait—let’s block the door. It’ll give us a head start.”

She and Grady looked around, but the only moveable object was an automobile parked a few feet away.

“That’ll do,” said Sebastian, speaking for the first time since they’d left. “Macey.”

The two of them—with help from Grady, who reached inside and unfastened the brake and then steered—pushed the vehicle until it was up against the theater door. No sooner had they put in place than the door swung open…only to be stopped cold by the heavy metal automobile. The opening was barely wide enough for a hand to protrude.

They were safe—for now.

“Let’s get out of here,” said Macey, glancing at Grady, who was as out of breath from excitement and exertion as she was. “And thank you.”

“This way,” said Sebastian, and took off at a fast, certain pace.

They hadn’t gone far—only a block or so—before Sebastian suddenly stopped, and turned to face them. They were in a narrow alley, made more eerie and shadowy by the storm clouds and rain. He seemed to block their way, his eyes suddenly burning red.

Macey stopped up short, quickly thrusting Grady behind her, but he yanked her by the arm and tried to pull her back, and she saw Grady was holding a stake.

“Where did you get this?” Sebastian lunged toward Macey, grabbing her by the arm and spinning her around. His hand was in an upraised fist, as if ready to strike a blow.

Grady gave an exclamation and leapt toward him, but the vampire’s arm whipped backward to knock him aside just as Macey gave Sebastian a shove and pivoted out of his grip.

“I’m not going to hurt her,” Sebastian snarled, whirling onto Grady, his hand still in an angry fist, then back to Macey. “I need to know where you got this!” He brandished the fist in her face, and that was when she saw the faint glitter of beads on it. The rosary. Wrapped around his hand and fist.

“They’re coming!” shouted Grady, looking down the street.

Sebastian cursed, but bolted off. Macey followed, but at a slower pace to keep Grady with her.

They zigzagged through streets and around parked cars, sloshing through puddles and slipping on the pavement. They didn’t stop this time until they reached the ornate newel post identifying The Silver Chalice.

Moments later, they were inside the dry, silent pub. The door had barely closed when Sebastian had Macey slammed against the wall once more. “Where did you get this?” He was out of breath, his eyes were wild—but unglowing—and the rosary was still looped around his wrist. “Did Wayren give it to you? Wayren!” he bellowed, spinning away to shout at the room at large while still holding Macey flush against the wall. “Wayren!”

“No, it’s not from Wayren,” Macey said. She held up her hand to stop Grady, who looked as if he were ready to plunge his stake into Sebastian’s back. “I—it came from—an old woman gave it to me.”

“An old woman?” Sebastian straightened up, his expression one of astonishment and confusion. He released her. “An old woman? How? Where?”

“At Old St. Patrick’s Church, over on—”

Sebastian’s cry of shock and amazement was clearly one of comprehension. “My God,” he breathed, looking down at the rosary wrapped around his hand. He staggered, bracing himself against the wall. “My God.”

If Grady thought it odd that a vampire was calling for the Divine, he didn’t react. He merely watched, his eyes dark and steady as he lowered the stake to his side.

“Sebastian?” Macey reached to touch her colleague’s arm, no longer the least bit concerned that his vampiric tendencies would overtake him. Something had happened…and it had to do with that rosary. “What does it mean?”

“It’s got an extra bead on the tail part,” Grady commented, looking from one of them to the other—but Sebastian was clearly no longer interested in conversation.

“I’ve…” He turned and strode off—no, he ran—out of the pub.

If Macey had to guess, she’d wager his destination was Old St. Patrick’s Church.