Black Arts (Jane Yellowrock #7)

Black Arts (Jane Yellowrock #7) Page 57

Shoffru looked confused and then dismissed my comments. “Give me the blood diamond.”

“Let him go, heal him, and we’ll chat.” Eli, trusting me to get him out of this, tucked the grenade back in a pocket.

“You have nothing with which to bargain,” Shoffu said.

“He dies, and neither do you,” I said.

Evan stepped up to me, his music playing. In Beast’s vision, I could see Evan’s magic pushing back on the directed death-magic. Molly’s magic. And I knew the moment he realized that the magic was familiar. Was his wife’s. His music nearly died as he breathed it in, but he played on, with only that single hitch in the melody. His scent changed, though, and I smelled the panic flooding through his body. Fight or flight. And with Big Evan that always meant fight.

“I have your friend.”

“Not with you, you don’t. See, I’m not human, and while I smell her magic, I don’t smell Molly. You have her somewhere safe. But not here.” My words were spoken to Shoffru, but were meant for Evan, to keep him from doing anything stupid.

To my side, Adrianna slid to the floor, leaving a long smear of blood on the wall. Sitting, she gripped the blade and pulled. It dragged from her body with an awful sound. She moaned softly, like a child in pain, holding the knife out. Her blood poured from both sides, bubbling and dark as the silver poisoned her. She had started the night dressed in white. Now she looked like death served cold. Her arm slowly dropped, until the blade touched the floor. Her fingers went limp and released the hilt. She took a breath, released it, and went still. She wasn’t exactly true-dead. She could be brought back if a master vamp was in the mood to save her. Or she could rise as a revenant if no one took her head. But for now, she was no danger to anyone. At most she was a bargaining chip, though I had little reason to suspect that Shoffru cared for her.

Through the busted windows I heard more sirens far off, growing closer. Someone had figured out where the problems were. Big Evan played on. He knew we were in trouble, big trouble, and he wanted me to know he wasn’t going to fly off the handle, that he understood that Molly wasn’t here. Wasn’t just outside, in need of his help. I turned my attention back to Shoffru. Eli was pale and sweaty in his grip. His black camo was wet and even blacker, drenched with blood. “I’ll let you take Adrianna. In return, you let Eli go.”

“I bargain for only one thing. The blood diamond.”

Eli’s eyes rolled back in his head. He wasn’t breathing. His knees turned to water as he went limp. I wasn’t sure Shoffru even noted the extra weight as the Ranger passed out. Panic shocked through me and I saw Shoffru sniff as my fear pheromones charged the air. I had to keep Shoffru from killing him. I had to keep the people in the house safe. I had to find Molly and save her. The goals could not be merged. “It’s not like I carry it around with me,” I snarled as Eli’s dark skin went ashy gray.

“Pity,” the pirate said. “It seems our rapiers are locked.”

I made sense of that metaphor. He was talking about dueling with swords. “Yeah, life sucks that way sometimes.” I jutted my chin to the nearly dead vamp on the floor to my side. Using the gesture to hide my other action, I palmed a throwing knife. “So what about your girlfriend?”

He tilted his head to the side, one of those weird moves that looks like a bird cocking its head. Not human at all. “I do not require the female.” He lifted his head and sniffed. The lizard poked its head out of Jack’s collar and raced around the vamp’s shoulder to the back.

Behind me the notes of the flute changed, rising an octave, now sounding like a challenge and not pure defense. At the same moment, the stench of Molly’s death magic stopped cold. Either she was dead or she was temporarily free of Shoffru’s control. “Your pet sorcerer is a nuisance. If you want the soldier back alive, bring the blood diamond to me.”

Left-handed, I threw the knife. It shot through the air and buried itself in Shoffru’s chest. Inches from his heart. The pirate didn’t react. He tossed Eli up into the air. My partner landed on Shoffru’s shoulder like a rag doll, his blood spraying across the room and onto the wall, spattering like a swan’s wing. With a loud pop of air, Shoffru—and Eli—was gone. Silence settled on the house, expectant and full of despair. The sofa rolled over, thudding on its feet. Rachael rose from a crouch, holding a wicked-sharp kitchen knife, a boning knife, maybe. She had a hand on Bliss, holding the little witch behind her. “Shiloh?” she called. When nothing happened, she called louder, “Shiloh!”

The redheaded girl leaned in through the broken back window. Somehow she had ended up outside, and she was crying. Thin bloody streaks marked her cheeks. Rachael rushed to the window and pulled Shiloh through into the room. “I’m sorry,” Shiloh whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“You panicked,” Rachael soothed. “It happens. It’s okay.”

“But I left you to die,” she wailed. “I’m a horrible mistress. I suck at being a vampire.”

I couldn’t help it. I laughed. Rachael and Bliss both shot me evil looks. Shiloh looked nonplussed for a moment and then she laughed with me. Beside her, Katie laughed too, her fangs snicking back into the roof of her mouth.

Still laughing, maybe sounding a bit hysterical, if I listened closely, I slid off the stool to the floor, landing in an ungainly pile of legs, a half scream of pain as my arm jostled horribly, and my body landing sent out a puff of air. The stool rocked up, twirled on one leg, and clattered over beside me. The gust from my fall reached Shiloh, and her nostrils widened as she sniffed. Instantly she vamped out. Tiny needle fangs snapped down on the hinges in the roof of her mouth as her eyes bled black and wide in the bloody red sclera. Not very stable, was our little, youngest fanghead. And me bleeding all over the floor.

“Shiloh?” Evan’s voice came from the side, and Shiloh whipped her head to him, sniffing. And licked her lips. Her uncle was a body full of blood that an emotional vamp might need, badly.

Without looking, Evan reached out a hand and touched Bliss’ shoulder. “Help me here,” he said to her. He lifted a flute and blew a soft, breathy note. It was a note full of compulsion, and I let myself fall into the ease and peace it offered. Magics danced across the room, to spark on Shiloh’s skin. Even Katie looked content, almost serene, and I had never seen her look that way. Never.

Shiloh’s fangs hinged slowly back into her mouth. Her pupils contracted, the sclera paling out to streaks of red and then to white. She blinked, humanity and understanding flooding into her expression. “Ohhhh,” she breathed.

And with that, I slid down, falling face-first into a dark pit that was free of pain.

• • •

When I woke, it was to the sound of flute music. There was no particular melody, just low notes, each seeming a hint off, followed by chirps of bird calls, piping and bright, all merging into a pleasant, easy sound, like egrets murmuring to one another as they settled into nests for the night. I was lying on something soft that smelled of female bodies and vamp and blood and arousal. I was in a vamp’s lair, in her bed. I thought about that. About moving. About how I happened to end up here. In a rush I remembered most of it. I decided that as long as they weren’t feeding off me or inviting me to join in a group . . . whatever . . . I was good with that.

“She’s awake,” Shiloh said. “Her heart rate changed.”

I grunted, but I didn’t want to move. I wasn’t hurting bad, and that almost-pain-free feeling wouldn’t last if I moved. But the music stopped and heated hands gripped my good shoulder to pull me upright. I met Evan’s eyes and managed a smile, or I intended it to be a smile, but from his reaction, I must have failed. Yeah. So much for the pain-free moments.

“How many times can you be injured that badly and survive?” he asked, almost gently.

I just grunted again, pulled the neck of my shirt down, and looked at my shoulder. The muscles beneath the thin pink, scarred skin were mangled still, but I was no longer bleeding. As I watched, one of the muscles making up the rotator cuff twisted, moved to the back about a quarter inch, and relaxed. Vamp healing mixed with Big Evan’s witch healing. Pretty good. Not as good as shifting to Beast and back, but pretty good. There wasn’t much left of my shirt, my bra was torn and bloody, and I stank of old blood and fear and sweat. “Eli?”

“The fanghead,” Rachael said, drolly, “took him.”

“The Kid is working to find him,” Evan said. “What can you tell me about Molly?” He looked at his niece and added ominously, “The girls won’t tell me.”

I looked at my injured hand. No pelt. Good. I tried to make a fist, and pain spiraled through me. Not good. Still some healing to do and no time to shift. “Yeah. About Mol,” I said. “I think her magic went to the dark side, during the fight against Evangelina in the yard. The fight when Evie nearly killed all her sisters,” I said.

“Shoffru thought Molly had the diamond and threatened her niece to make Molly bring the diamond to him. Molly knew I had it, so she came to New Orleans to get my help with getting Shiloh free. And then he took her and the girls Shiloh was partying with. He realized she was a powerful death-witch and a brand-new weapon in his hands, so he got Mol blood-drunk and started using her magic. That’s the timeline I’ve figured out so far and maybe it’s right. I don’t know for sure yet.

“But I think Molly killed off every live thing around the house where she was being kept hostage, and when her magic couldn’t be controlled any longer, and started draining them”—I nodded to the three females—“she rebelled.”

I also thought Shoffru was keeping her blood-drunk, which spelled addiction for her, but I didn’t say that. “And I think Reach is working for Shoffru and called him when we got near the house. He took Molly and left.” I shrugged and the shoulder moved with less pain from the ongoing healing that Evan had started and that one of the vamps cozied up next to me had improved on. Lovely, wonderful feeling. I sighed and stretched very, very slowly. The shoulder was weak but better. Much better. Not as good as if I shifted to heal, but better, and I didn’t have time to shift and still find Molly.