Chapter 2

Chapter

Two

M y stomach heaved, but I gulped in air and somehow avoided being sick. Which was a damn good thing given every instinct I had was screaming, "don't move, don't show any sign of repulsion, and for God's sake, don't show any fear lest it unleash the demon so evident in her eyes."

Because there was absolutely nothing human in her gaze right now.

There were many people—even to this day—who believed vampires weren't created via magic and the sharing of a vampire's blood, but were indeed true demons who'd simply taken over the flesh of the living—or even the newly dead—to prey on others.

Maelle was living evidence as to why those superstitions had formed.

I flexed my fingers and resisted the press of wild magic. It might ache to be released, but aside from the pall of inhumanity that currently surrounded her, there was also the magic. It clung to her like a cloak, a cloud of viscous dark purple threads that threatened violence.

If either of us tried to spell right now—if we even reached for something as simple as a protection spell—that violence would hit us.

I guess we were about to discover whether the recently boosted charms we both wore would protect us against a vampire walking the thin edge of sanity.

I fucking hope they do, Belle said, because holy cow, if she unleashed that power—fully unleashed—it could take out everything and everyone in the near vicinity.

And the scary thing is, Marie is at least her equal magic wise. If they got into a one-on-one battle, the whole damn reservation could be destroyed. Have you any sense of the other woman?

Yes, she's upstairs, in Maelle's aerie.

Alive?

Yes.

Which at least meant the … bits … all over Maelle's body weren't that other woman's. Which of course only led to the next obvious question—whose was it? The blood was too fresh, too red, for it to have happened any earlier than a few minutes ago, and yet Belle hadn't sensed anyone else in the club.

It's possible that whatever happened for her to be covered in … Belle's mental tones faded briefly as she gulped … all this stuff happened in the private rooms. They weren't destroyed in the explosion, remember.

Because they weren't located within the club itself, but rather underground some undefined distance away. The main entrance had been here, though, and it had used some sort of transport spell to take her customers into that area.

Perhaps that's where the door bouncers are, too.

Unless, of course, the bits are the bouncers. There's a lot of black threaded in amongst the other … things … and that seemed to be their color of choice.

I can't see her attacking her own people.

And yet she all but destroyed the vampire coven because Marie broke her promise not to turn anyone else from Maelle's bloodline—no children, grandchildren, or great-grandchildren—and you can bet your ass plenty of those she murdered that day were her people.

Maelle stopped at the base of the stairs that divided the upper platform—where the bar and the seating booths were—from the main dance floor. The chunks of flesh and the strings of muscle and veins decorating her clothing were more evident this close, and the scent of it all … Dear God, she smelled like blood and raw meat, and it was all I could do not to turn and run.

For several seconds she said nothing and did nothing, but her fingers were clenched and those darkly violent threads surrounding her pulsed erratically.

That pulse, I realized in horror, matched the frantic beat of my heart.

And mine.

Maelle's fists clenched a fraction more, her knuckles glowing in her blood-splattered hands. She wanted to attack. She was desperate to attack.

But somewhere deep under all that fury and violence a spark of sanity remained—and it was all that kept her from following baser need.

The silence stretched on endlessly. She didn't move, and I didn't dare lest it break the tenuous hold she had on control. As time ticked past, my erratic heartbeat began to slow, and the dark threads echoed the descent. The black leached from her eyes, though it left the faintest stain around her irises, a reminder that the violence might be checked but it had not disappeared.

She flexed her fingers, and I briefly echoed the movement. Her gaze flicked to my hands, but thankfully, the sparks that sometimes played around their tips in dangerous situations were absent. Perhaps my inner wild magic was as frightened by the woman in front of us as I was.

Justifiably so, Belle said. Though if I had to guess at a reason for the lack of a light show, I'd say it's more to do with you gaining control over it now that you've done the well thing and come to an agreement with its tenants.

"Its tenants" being the souls of the Fenna—witch-werewolf crosses who'd been specifically bred in the fires of newly emerging wellsprings to become guardians of the wild magic. It was a practice that hadn't survived into present day—hell, there'd only been one book in the main witch archives up in Canberra that even mentioned the Fenna—but that had all changed the day I'd gotten pregnant. The daughter I was carrying would be the first true Fenna born in who knew how many generations, and to save the O'Connor compound, I'd forever bound her to the older wellspring.

That I'd had no real choice didn't ease the guilt of choosing a life and a path for her that she might never have wanted.

"If you came to warn me of an attack on my people, you came far too late." Maelle's French accent was almost lost to the fury that burned through her voice. "They are gone. They are all gone. All bar Lucille."

My gaze flicked to Maelle's lair—a dark glass and metal room built into the point where the building's ceiling arches met, giving her a three-sixty-degree view of her venue while concealing her from casual sight. The vague outline visible through one of those dark panes suggested Lucille was watching us.

My gaze returned to Maelle. "Did their attackers escape?"

Her smile was short, sharp, and dangerous, even without her canines fully extended. "No, they did not. But then, I doubt Marie ever intended them to."

My gaze flicked briefly to her splattered, stained clothes. If she'd done the whole "swimming in their remains" thing, then it was unlikely there'd even be enough left to identify them…

I gulped and brutally pushed down the images that rose. Maelle emoted so strongly that, despite all the barriers now ringing my psi senses, my psychometry and clairvoyance skills were working in tandem to pick up bits and pieces of her memories.

"Is that where your guards are? They're cleaning up the attackers' remains?"

She smiled her violent smile. "Oh, there is very little remaining, but yes."

"Did this happen here? Or were each of your people tracked down and killed individually?"

"It happened in the club's privacy rooms. I thought it safer if I kept my people close. I was wrong."

"But how did they get in?" Belle asked. "I saw how secure those rooms were. Even if she'd magically smashed her way through, you would have had warning."

"Indeed, and if they had done that, there'd be more than one feeder alive right now. But there was no need to break the barriers, because they have Roger, and he has access to all areas."

I frowned. I'd already seen what was happening to Roger, so that didn't really make much sense. He simply couldn't have been here if he'd already been staked out in that forest. Unless, of course, what I'd seen was some sort of insight into what would be rather than what was. Given it wasn't really a precognitive dream, but rather a meeting of minds or even spirits that had been orchestrated by Marie, anything was possible.

"Why didn't you change his access when he disappeared?" I asked.

"It would have been pointless. He is my creature and would read as me to any barrier raised."

"Surely you can refine the spells," Belle said. "He has very different physical attributes than you."

"Indeed, but he shares my energy, and that is what underpins all the spells. It cannot be altered."

"But if Roger had been forced here to open the gateways and allow Marie's people entry, wouldn't you have sensed him?"

"Under normal circumstances, yes."

"And under these circumstances?" I asked.

She smiled her scary smile. "He did not come through here."

Instinct prickled. "Not here, but he was in the private rooms, I take it?"

"Yes. It is what drew me away from my lair and Lucille."

Lucky Lucille . Because if the two of them had been in the middle of a feeding sex session when the murders happened, she might have taken her fury out on the other woman—even if not intentionally. "I take it that means there's a second entry?"

"More an escape route. By the time I arrived, he was gone, but the barriers had been breached and the slaughter almost complete." She paused, and the black in her eyes briefly increased. "I finished what they started. Such bloodshed … it is irresistible."

Dear God … she killed her own people. Belle's mental tones were filled with horror. No wonder Lucille is quaking in her boots.

While there was a part of me sympathetic to Lucille's terror, she'd willingly become a bloodsucker's blood bank and had to be aware of the damn dangers that came with that.

"The attack on your feeders isn't what I came here to warn you about," I said.

She raised an eyebrow, the movement almost languid. Overfeeding did have that effect … I shoved the thought away. I did not need it or the resulting images that teased mind and imagination. My stomach remained really unstable, and it wouldn't take much for me to start puking.

"Then what did you come here for?"

"Marie stepped into a dream. She gave me a message to give to you."

She straightened as the shadows rolled through her eyes again. "What message?"

"That you have twenty-four hours to meet her at the court of justice, or she will kill Roger and come after you."

"There is no justice in her court. There never has been. She is also well aware I am her equal in magic, and all of this is nothing more than a means of ensuring she has the upper hand."

"Is that why—at least in the dream—I saw him staked with white ash?"

The black flooded her eyes again. "She has him staked? That would certainly explain my recent … hungers. He is drawing more from me to fight the deadly infection that comes with such piercing."

"Is it survivable?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Of course." The reply was curt. "He is not a vampire, just the creature of one. Staking him will never kill him, even if his heart is pierced, but he will continue to draw more from me as the infection grows. You must find him before I am forced to completely cut him off."

I frowned. "It's going to take more than twenty-four hours to search every glade in this reservation, Maelle."

"Then use the other gifts you have in your possession."

"You told me they would be useless—that he would read as an extension of you."

"That is neither here nor there. I wish you to at least try."

By wish, she means demand, Belle said dryly .

No doubt about that . To Maelle, I added, "Then I will need something of his to use. Something closely connected to him."

She immediately pulled a gold ring off the small finger on her left hand and held it out to me. I didn't take it. "It needs to be his, not yours."

"He is me. You can use this to find an echo of my presence."

Which was exactly what Aiden had said earlier. The man understood more about my gifts and how they worked than I'd given him credit for.

That's to be expected, given just how often said gifts have been employed under his very watchful eye over the last year , Belle said, mental tones dry. I'm just hoping that Monty's declaration that these two will be the last of the big bads to come into the reservation comes to pass. All of us deserve a goddamn break.

And how often have you warned me about tempting fate with comments like that?

Difference is, I didn't say it out loud. Thoughts are perfectly safe.

Maelle waved the ring at me, the movement impatient. I held my breath and stepped forward, not wanting to inhale the scent of blood and meat that hung like a pall around her. It was bad enough from a distance, but the closer you got…

I pulled an old tissue from my pocket, folded it several times, then gingerly plucked the ring from her grip, being extra careful not to touch her hand. My shields were holding against the raw emotion she was still broadcasting, but a direct touch might well blow them apart.

Even through the layers of tissues, I felt the life within the ring. Her presence dominated, but there very definitely was a distant echo. Whether I'd be able to trace it was another matter entirely—and a question I couldn't answer until I opened the gates holding my psychometry in check.

I moved back to stand beside Belle and released the breath I'd been holding. Though to be honest, the air quality was only fractionally better here.

"Are you sensing anything?" Maelle asked, voice sharp.

"I haven't even tried?—"

"Then do so."

I frowned at her. "It's never wise to chase a rabbit down a hole without full protections when said rabbit is caught?—"

Maelle was suddenly several steps closer, even though I hadn't even seen her move. "What is unwise is not doing what I ask, when I ask it."

My insides clenched, but I continued to meet her dark gaze evenly. "You can't afford to kill me, Maelle. You're outnumbered, and you need all the fucking help you?—"

"Oh, I won't kill you, Elizabeth," she cut in smoothly. "But this reservation? The people you care about? Different matter entirely."

In that moment, I saw Marie in her. Saw just how similar the two were, despite Maelle's thicker coat of civility. But what did I expect? She was, in the end, Marie's creation—a product of her blood and her magic.

I clenched my fists and stepped so close to her that we were almost nose to nose. The stench rolling off her was horrendous, and the darkness in her eyes a smothering blanket that was all-consuming … then my inner wild magic flared, the blanket fell away, and her eyes became nothing more than inky spots of fury.

"I hope your threat is nothing more than the lingering madness of bloodthirst you mentioned earlier." My voice was flat, utterly devoid of the fury and the fear that roiled through me. "But if it is not, be warned. Harm any of my friends, or anyone I love, and I will erase your stain from existence."

She stared at me for the longest moment, then threw her head back and laughed.

"Ah, Lizzie Grace, I do wish there were more around like you. You are balm for the soul."

Thank the fuck that gamble paid off , Belle said, because I was getting ready to fry the bitch's mind.

Maelle respects strength and courage, even if she doesn't believe I could ever best her in a one-on-one fight.

She doesn't, but if you ever do get into a one-on-one, you know I'll be along for that ride. She paused. Monty suggests not taking the ring back to the café, because it's possible it could provide her with a magical access point.

I frowned. But I revoked her access ? —

Via the usual means of entry. But mages are fully capable of transport spells, and the ring could provide a navigational lock point on the café that will allow her to bypass all protections and restrictions and port directly in.

Is it possible to guard against that sort of thing?

There was a brief pause, then she said, If we place a repelling spell around it and then encase it in silver, he thinks that should do the trick.

"Please," Maelle continued, in that same amused manner, "proceed as you wish, where you wish."

I hesitated. "It's probably best if we do the search here, but we'll need to create a protective circle to ensure whatever traps Marie might have laid don't snare?—"

"If this is a trap, Elizabeth, a mere protection circle will not actually protect you."

"If it was only one circle, that might be true. But three working in tandem have defeated the most determined demon in the past. At the very least, it will hold off your demon long enough to retreat." I paused. "I take it you have no objections to us bringing Monty in to help?"

Monty was in fact the reservation witch—a position assigned by the High Witch Council and one that usually meant doing nothing more than passing on the occasional high council decree and providing the rangers with magical assistance when needed. I'd officially become his assistant a few months ago, but that didn't moot the point that Maelle should have been dealing with him rather than me. But as Belle had noted previously, she wanted to get her teeth into my flesh, not his, and had basically started—very politely—blocking his attempts to talk to her.

And one did not push the buttons of a crazy powerful vampire unless it was absolutely necessary.

Thinks the woman who constantly pushes said buttons, Belle noted dryly.

I didn't bother refuting the statement. Couldn't, in fact, when it was nothing but the truth.

"Marie would be incensed to hear you call her a mere demon." Amusement played around Maelle's lips again but the violence surrounding her had retreated further. Though none of us dared relax just yet, it was at least a sign that the immediate threat of becoming a vampire's lunch had greatly lessened. "But yes, you can bring Monty in. The poor fellow might well have a heart attack if it keeps beating at such a rapid rate."

Holy fuck, she can hear it from here? Belle said.

The senses of all predators are attuned to their prey.

Yeah, but I had no idea it was that sensitive.

Wolves can hear sounds from six to ten miles away, depending on the terrain and wind. While I doubt her hearing is that keen, I can't imagine up to a mile would be much of a stretch. To Maelle, I added, "Where would you prefer us to set up?"

She waved a hand casually. "Wherever. I have … things I have to take care of, but I will remain nearby if you need me."

I nodded. She turned and walked away, disappearing into the deeper shadows that haunted the dance floor. The air suddenly became easier to breathe.

I glanced at Belle. "Monty's on the way?"

She nodded. "He's just grabbing your spell stones from your pack."

"Just as well I didn't lock the SUV then."

"You could leave the keys in the ignition and put a ‘feel free to steal' sign on that thing, and absolutely no one would take you up on the invitation."

I grinned but turned around as Monty came through the plastic.

"Where's our resident vamp?" he asked.

"Dealing with ‘stuff' but close enough to hear and see what is going on," Belle said.

"Ah." He handed me and Belle the small silk bags containing our spell stones. "I suggest you two interweave your stones while I provide an outer layer. Belle can remain in the inner circle with you, just to be doubly safe."

Belle raised an eyebrow. "I think it would be best if the three of us are in the center. Safer all round if this is a setup."

"I disagree, and I am the boss in the field."

She grinned and patted his arm. "You keep on believing that, if it makes you happy."

He rolled his eyes. "Just get to it, both of you."

We did. After Belle and I had placed our spell stones, we raised the protective magic, weaving the separate threads through each other's to create a stronger whole.

Once we were done and the circle was raised, Monty placed his own spell stones, then stepped inside his barrier and raised it.

"Right," he said, turning to face us. "You're good to go."

I nodded and sat cross-legged on the ground. Belle followed, then inched closer so that our knees were touching.

We'd done this hundreds of times before, but my stomach nevertheless clenched. Probably because this time, unlike the other times, I knew exactly what might be waiting.

"You'll be fine," Belle said softly. "I'll pull you out the minute I sense anything untoward."

"I know."

But knowing didn't ease the fear and uncertainty, however. In cases like this, it probably never would.

I took one of those deep breaths that did absolutely nothing, then carefully wiped away any smears of blood from the ring before releasing it from its tissue prison.

The minute the gold hit my skin, my psi talents exploded to life, drawing me hard and fast down a rabbit hole of images and information. In quick succession I saw two golden wattles, red boulders, a cavern shaped like a mouth, and a deep body of water. Then feet, and legs, and then arms, but no torsos. No heads.

None of the parts belonged to Roger. But he was here, somewhere.

His intermittent pulse ran across the darkness, a spark of life in a cavern that held nothing but death.

Realization hit. This was a pen.

A stockyard.

A place Marie and her people took their human "cattle" before they dined on them.