Blood Wyne (Otherworld/Sisters of the Moon #9)

Blood Wyne (Otherworld/Sisters of the Moon #9) Page 37

“It looks like we’re here. Come, my dear. We’ve got work to do.” Roman stepped out of the limo and held out his hand. I took it and al owed him to help me out of the car. “Stay by my side, whatever you do. This is going to be bloody.”

As I stood up and looked around the parking lot, I saw four other cars pul up—al black sedans

—and out of each car stepped four vampires. Mostly men, but a few women in the mix, and they were al dressed in the same black jeans and turtlenecks as Roman, with a signature crest woven in white on their shirts. They wore black sunglasses—Ray-Bans, by my guess—and fel into two lines, standing at attention, arms crossed.

Roman turned and I saw the same crest splashed across his back, and it was easier to make out what the picture was. A pair of crossed white swords in the center of a circle. The circle rested atop the back of a mighty lion, with a chalice clasped in its paws.

“Your family crest?”

He nodded. “My crest, but the chalice indicates my lineage—that I’m a child of Blood Wyne.

And al of these”—he stopped to nod at the vampires gathering around us—“al of these are my children; I’ve sired every one of them.”

As I looked from face to face, I saw only one commonality—an unquestioning loyalty. Roman’s children were his, and his alone, and they would live or die for him depending on his whim.

The vamps fel into two lines behind us, and we headed toward the club. Security saw us—the two vamps guarding the door suddenly stood and one disappeared inside. We weren’t making a secret entrance, that was for sure.

Roman pul ed out a pair of glasses like those of his children and slid them on. “I believe we are ready.”

We paused, waiting for Roman to give the order. I was used to leading the charge when it came to fights, but I gave over to him. This was his battle—more so than mine—and it would affect every vampire in the region and would cement Roman’s authority.

Roman glanced around. “Remember, guests of the club wil be al owed to leave. If they side with Terrance, they are fair game. No mortal is to be harmed unless you have no recourse. Stun them, charm them, knock them out, but do not kil them and absolutely no drinking from anybody! We’re here to make a statement, not have a party. Understood?”

As one voice they answered. “Understood, Liege! ”

“Forward—and do not flinch.”

As Roman and I led the columns of vampires toward the building, people began spil ing out of it, running every which way. Half-dressed, some drunk, they were making sure they were out of the way. Word of our coming had spread. Relieved, I steeled myself for battle. It was good that my sisters weren’t with me, after al . Vampire against vampire caused some of the bloodiest battles around.

In the parking lot, the snow had turned to slush from the number of cars driving through, and the ridiculous image of Terrance and Roman lobbing snowbal s at one another raced through my mind. I tried to brush it away, but it kept teasing me until I let out a short laugh. Roman glanced at me. I shrugged, pressing my lips together. I wasn’t even going to bother trying to explain.

The crimson doors slammed open as we approached, and four burly vampires stepped out to block the way.

Roman straightened his shoulders, removed his glasses, and unleashed his ful glamour. He was power incarnate, glorious and godlike. His aura preceded him, weaving a spel as he stood, magnetic and al uring, commanding countless armies. He stared at the vampires standing in his way, his stature shouldering the mil ennia he’d seen. I fel under his gaze, caught in the hoarfrost and silver waves that crashed against his face.

“On behalf of the Throne of Blood, I, Roman, son of Blood Wyne, Queen of the Crimson Veil, order you to stand back and let us enter unimpeded. I give you one chance to obey.”

Two of the vampires immediately dropped to their knees, crouching as they scuttled away from the door. The other two looked terrified, but held their posts. Roman put his glasses back on and started walking toward them, and I fel into place beside him. His children had our backs.

As we came to the door, the two vamps who had not deserted their posts quivered as the son of Blood Wyne moved within arm’s reach. Roman gazed at them but did not issue another warning.

Instead, he reached out with one hand and pressed it against the nearest guard’s chest. The vampire did not move, so petrified was the look on his face.

Roman smiled, faintly, and then quick as lightning he was holding the man’s heart in his hand and the vampire stared down at his gaping chest, as if surprised to find he was no longer whole, and then a roil of smoke rose up and he turned to dust, as did the heart in Roman’s hand. The guard’s partner took one look at us and ran.

“Let him go,” Roman said. “It’s time for bigger game.”

And we entered the Fangtabula, ready to raise hel .

CHAPTER 24

When we broke through the doors, al the memories of the last time we’d been here came flooding back. The red and black and silver color scheme, the gigantic chamber with a staircase descending to the main floor, tiled in a checkerboard of black and white. The twenty-foot ceiling stil stretched overhead, an awesome vista, but the cloth panels that had draped down to produce a labyrinth of bil owing wal s were gone.

Two stairwel s led to an upper level on either side of the room, and in the center, a three-sided railing overlooked the open area below, where a long staircase descended to the underground levels.

The bar against the left wal was empty, as were the tables and booths. A glance at the grotto on the right side of the chamber, however, stil showed a few bloodwhores who hadn’t escaped yet.

We’d have to be careful around them.

As we spread out, Roman’s children forming two rows of eight in a semicircle in back of us, we could see Terrance ascending the staircase from the underground levels, and behind him, his retinue. One I recognized from our last attack on the Fangtabula. Amazon Bitch was back, only the bodybuilder vamp had gotten rid of the fringed white pants. Now she wore a black catsuit, her muscles rippling beneath the stretch lamé material. But I didn’t recognize the rest of them.

Terrance was a dark vampire—swarthy, with curly hair that grazed the top of his shoulders. He had a sneer that seemed perpetual y ingrained on his face.

“Cease. Give over, Terrance. You can’t win and you know it.” Roman stepped forward. “Blood Wyne sent me.”

“I don’t care what your mama wants. I don’t recognize the power of the Crimson Veil.” Terrance was eyeing Roman cautiously. He was no fool; he knew how old and powerful a vamp he was facing.

Roman let out a slow hiss. “Then you are signing your death warrant.”

“It was signed the day you decided I was a threat. Now, you just have to make good on it.” And Terrance attacked.

He flew toward Roman, a blur of movement, as his henchmen spread out to take on our guards.

I found myself up against the Amazon Bitch again. She grinned when she saw me, her fangs sharp and glittering.

“I remember you, D’Artigo. You might want to rethink your company, you know, considering how ethical you consider yourself. Your companion has kil ed more humans by his own hand than al of us combined.” She jostled, her breasts bouncing lightly beneath the lamé suit. She must have just gotten implants before her death, because gravity was no threat to her and never again would be.

I circled her, aware that Roman and Terrance were engaging one another.

“I remember you, too. Decided that leather chaps weren’t the way to go, final y?”

As we sidestepped around each other, two cautious rhythms keeping pace, I zoned out the rest.

Fight your own battle, I’d learned early. Fight your own battle, and keep up your shields so you know if someone else is incoming on the side or at your back. A shriek echoed behind me, but I didn’t turn. Somebody was getting munched on.

Letting my fangs descend, I gauged her strength. If I remembered right, she and I were fairly matched, though I’d recently drunk Roman’s blood and that would give me an edge. Even now, I could feel his essence drifting through my body, his energy infusing my own, and I focused on that, cal ing it to the forefront, encouraging it like I might encourage a shy cat or a reluctant child.

My opponent arched her eyebrows and licked her lips. “You’re delicious, Menol y. I can hardly wait to sink my teeth in you and drink you dry.”

And then she flew at me, and we engaged. I dodged to the side, whirling to land a kick on her lower back as she stumbled past. She lurched but was quick to rebound. She turned, running to leap into a cartwheel, flipping once, twice, and then right over my head. When I saw what she was doing, I launched myself into the air to catch her mid-flip, and we both went crashing to the ground.

Over to my left, Roman and Terrance were grappling. Terrance might not have been an old vampire, but he was strong and Roman had his work cut out for him. They rol ed on the ground, seeking purchase with their fangs.

And out of the corner of my eye, I saw that the children were engaged in battle—a blur of cloth and skin as they danced with death and fought against Terrance’s guards. The scent of blood hung in the air, driving everyone into a stronger frenzy.

I tried to ignore it, tried to focus on my enemy. We were rol ing now, with my hands around her throat and her fingers scrabbling for my eyes. I launched a kick, bringing my knee up to land against her stomach. She moaned and lost purchase, and I rol ed her over onto her back, pressing my fingers against her throat. She didn’t need to breathe, but if I could break her neck, I’d have the advantage and be able to kil her before she healed.

I straddled her, squeezing my knees against her. Bringing my hands up over my head, I clasped them together, then swung them whistling down toward her face. She struggled, trying to get her hands free from where my legs had pinned them against her side, but she couldn’t, and my fists made contact, crushing her nose, breaking through the cartilage and bone. Even then, she’d heal if I didn’t do something to prevent it. I looked up and saw one of Roman’s sons staring at me. He tossed me a stake and I caught it firmly in my hand and brought it down into her chest.

The Amazon shuddered once, turned to dust, and was gone. I grabbed up the stake and pushed myself to my feet, turning to see that my weapons benefactor had been watching me, not interfering, but standing guard.

I grinned at him. “Thanks!” And then turned to see what was going on.

Terrance and Roman were stil fighting, but most of the other vamps had been dispatched.

Roman’s children were wel trained, although when I counted them up, I saw only fourteen. Two lost.

Just then, Terrance managed to break free and came racing my way. His face was a bloody mess of fang wounds and his clothes were ripped to shreds. Instinctively, I leaped into his path to stop him, holding out the stake that I’d kil ed his girl Friday with. He careened out of the way just in time and caught the railing overlooking the lower levels. As he dropped to the floor below, I didn’t even think twice. I went racing up and launched myself over the side after him.

As I hit the floor, Terrance disappeared from sight, but I’d seen the direction in which he’d gone.

The lower levels of the Fangtabula were a labyrinthine maze. I came out of my crouch and hit the ground running. Behind me, I could hear others fol owing. Roman was right behind me, and several of his children behind him.

I raced forward, my feet skimming the floor. Up ahead, down a long dark corridor that was painted black with the same checkerboard floor, I saw Terrance disappear into one of the rooms.

When I came to the door, I didn’t think twice but slammed it open with my foot and dove through the opening.

Terrance was on the opposite side, holding a young girl to his chest, his nails conveniently placed at her jugular.

“Come one step closer and I’l kil her.”

I stopped, putting the brakes on. I could not endanger the child, even to kil Terrance. But Roman continued forward. I grabbed his arm.

“No—that’s a little girl. Look at her—she’s terrified!”

“Col ateral damage.”

I couldn’t believe that Roman was wil ing to put her life in danger. “No! I won’t be a part of it.”

“Leave me be, woman!” Roman shook me off.

Terrance laughed. “And that is what makes you weak, girl.” He neared the opposite door.

Roman continued toward him and I strode to his side, determined to stop him. But then something caught my attention. The girl. She didn’t look so much terrified as triumphant. And then, she smiled, just enough, and I saw the fangs descending.

“Fuck, she’s a vampire!”

“Don’t ever question my methods again,” Roman said as he fel on the pair. I joined him, yanking the girl out of Terrance’s arms. Terrance tried to get away—he was so close to the door he could almost touch it—but then Roman caught hold of his head and yanked it back by the hair. Terrance fought, but Roman sank his teeth into the albino flesh and drank deep.

At first, Terrance moaned, but then, as Roman drank deeper and deeper, Terrance screamed, thrashing to get away.

The girl I was holding struggled, but her strength was spare against my own. She looked up at me and a mixture of feelings washed through her eyes. She looked back at Terrance, and a slow smile spread across her face.

“Who is he, to you?” I whispered to her.

“He sired me. He raped me, sodomized me, and then he turned me—a hundred years ago. And he’s kept me prisoner ever since. He said he always had wanted a little girl.” She blinked, and I saw the same hatred in her face that I’d felt for Dredge. My heart broke and I found myself crying bloody tears. I pul ed her into my arms and held her tight, even though she struggled against me.