Mercy Blade (Jane Yellowrock #3)

Mercy Blade (Jane Yellowrock #3) Page 25

Jodi Richoux was gonna hate that. So was the U.S. justice system—which was already having kittens over the thought of having to confine a vamp—in total darkness during daylight hours, bars far stronger than those needed to detain a human, not to mention the whole “must drink human blood” dietary requirements problem. And I had to wonder if this was the decision of all the international vamps, or if Leo was swimming in dangerous waters. The little disclaimer “at this time” might not be enough to save him if the vamps at large took umbrage with his high-handedness.

I looked from Leo to Bruiser, who was watching me. When he caught my eye he looked around the room as if telling me to do the same. The wolves had padded into the center of the room, surrounding their human-form buddies. The security types were all in the room with us, except for Vodka Angel’s Tit, the only security type guarding the perimeter. Not good. I had to wonder if the weres planned it this way, and if so, was it a cover for something else?

Before I could key my mike to speak to Angel, I heard him say, “Bloody female vamp just appeared in the building, second floor, moving downstairs fast. Approaching ballroom.”

Murphy’s Law was working overtime.

The smell of blood hit me just as she appeared in the reception room, lots of blood, with mixed scent signatures. Like the top-note in a really bad perfume, was cat blood. Below it, overriding the cat smell, was vamp blood—the reek old and rotted. That was the only clue who had come visiting, and it identified the unrecognizable female better than a calling card. Katie of Katie’s Ladies. Risen from the vamp grave that had healed her from a mortal wound. But cat blood, fresh and potent, said something else had gone seriously wrong tonight. Kemnebi turned to her and hissed.

Katie was caked in dried blood; it fell from her in flakes and granules, shifting down from her stiff dress with little shushing sounds, like reeds in a slow breeze. Hair, skin, clothes all were coated with the blood and it stank with a rotted meat smell. Back hunched, arms bent and out to her sides, her feet bare and slender, she turned slowly, taking in the room. Her magics snapped and sparked like carnelian flames, visible to Beast-vision. Powerful. Eerily potent.

She growled and Beast slammed into me at the sound, filling my limbs with strength. My lips peeled back from human teeth, and the blade felt good, like a steel claw in my hand.

Katie pivoted slowly, and as she turned, she took in a deep breath. And pulled power from every vamp in the place, feeding from them. With Beast so close to the surface, I could see the power drain shifting in the air, a bloody-reddish wind, and when she turned to me, her fangs were three inches long and stained bloody red. Her eyes were vamped out so big the entire orbs were black, leaving no trace of the grayish hazel of her irises, and only a tinge of bloody sclera.

The draw of her magic punched through the room like fangs into an artery, sucking at magic, at the life force itself. Vamps began to fall to the floor where they lay writhing, gagging. The magic pressed against the weres. Drawing on their power, draining off their control like the moon at her fullest. The wolfman with Roul grunted and fell to the floor, his back arching, starting to change against his will. The wolf-bitch sank to the floor shivering, resisting, hiding beneath her robes. Roul bared his teeth, revealing fangs, no longer fully human. Kemnebi lifted clawed paws and growled low, cat-anger. The humans were having trouble getting breaths, some fell like the vamps, and lay as if dead. One cameraman hit the floor, camera first, shattering the expensive gadget.

I felt the bite of Katie’s power, siphoning at my own, nips of electric teeth. It hurt. Beast resisted, claws digging deep in my psyche. Katie moved around the room. Fresh blood coated her lower jaw. A single drip landed on her crusted breast, glowing like a ruby on her dried-blood flesh. She had fed. She smelled like she-cat blood. I looked around. Safia was still missing.

Katie found Leo in the throng. Everyone in the ballroom felt the moment their eyes met. Sparks flew and danced on the air. It was Fourth of July and Mardi Gras and New Year’s all at once and even the humans in the room could see it, feel it, erotic and sexual and primal, like battle and sex all at once. I felt the tug deep in my belly. Instantly, I remembered a photo I had once seen of Leo and Katie, her skirts tossed high, him servicing her with his mouth, her head thrown back in ecstasy.

“Katherine, do you challenge me?” Leo asked. Bruiser tried to stop him, but Leo stepped away, out onto the center of the ballroom floor. Behind him, Kemnebi watched, his black eyes full of anger and disdain for the wolf changing and for the vamps and blood-servants who had no resistance to vamp power. His claws and paws began to reform into human. It was clear ol’ Kemmy was no longer having trouble fending off the power grab.

“Leo?” Katie whispered. Her voice was rough and coarse, not the liquid velvet it once had been. “My Leo?”

Leo reached Katie, one hand following the length of her crusted hair, blond beneath the dark stain of old blood. He cupped her face, a look of joy in his eyes. He encircled her waist with an arm and pulled her gently to him, embracing her. Leo breathed out, his breath like a caress. Katie relaxed, resting against him. The dance of power in the room slowed. And Leo’s fangs pierced her throat so fast even I didn’t see the strike.

Katie screamed and hit him in a scissor motion, bringing both arms up and back down. The blow drove them to the floor. But Leo kept his fangs buried. His arms imprisoned her, his legs wrapped around her as they rolled across the floor. Everyone still standing scattered. Fights broke out as they moved.

Bruiser reached my side, holstering his weapons. “Katie has the blood of eight clans,” he said. “She isn’t sane just now, but she’s powerful as hell. Leo can’t let her take over.” He was gone and I was left putting sense to the words.

Katie was back, unexpectedly, from the grave that healed her. An unexpected rising meant she was likely not sane yet, as vamps had a tenuous hold on that particular mental state. She’d been buried with the blood of eight clans mixed into her coffin, absorbed into her very flesh. She was like a fully charged battery, designed to draw even more. At the moment, she was power incarnate, insane and hungry, unless Leo could defeat her and drink down her power. Thanks to the recent mini war, there were fewer total vamps and only four clans in the city, for the Master of the City to draw on to seal his power base. Leo’s four to Katie’s eight.

He’d asked her if she challenged him. Crap. He’d made it a legal duel. She hadn’t replied, too nutso to make a rational response, but she hadn’t stopped stealing power that was his by right either, making it a legal challenge for the position of Master of the City. I couldn’t think of a better way for Leo to keep his people safe—all the alternatives meant another war. If an insane master vamp as powerful as Katie divided the clans or took them over, things were gonna get really bad, really fast. So Leo threw himself onto the pyre as sacrifice like a good leader—who wanted to stay in power—would. I wasn’t gonna be happy having to admire Leo for that.

My thoughts took an eyeblink of time, but in that moment, the power draw stopped. Carnage began. Across the room, vamps shook themselves awake and stood. Wolves attacked. Fights broke out between species. Blood-servants raced to their masters, offering throats so the vamps could function again and maybe get them all out alive.

Roul shook like a dog and looked around, his humanity restored but not his temper. He was a mad dog. No. Don’t say it. I swallowed back a crazy laugh. Roul put his head down and bulled into a pack of fighting wolves and vamps just as the group rammed into a table of meats, sending food flying. The place reeked of blood—vamp, were, and human. In a corner, two vamps from clans no longer in existence, and always hated enemies, tore into one another. Other fights broke out and blood-servants joined in. It was a free-for-all. And I wasn’t dressed for it, as usual. Kem stood all alone, observing, his mouth in a snarl. Looking around the room. Looking for Safia.

I keyed my mike. “Angel, give me some good news.”

“Got none, Legs,” he said into my ear. “The little green guy got out, the cops have showed up at the front gate, decked out in paramilitary gear. They have ladders and they’re coming over the walls. They’ve got every unit in the city headed your way. Oh. And the wolves are loose. Who! Who let the dogs out?”

“Not funny, Angel,” Derek said, reaching my side.

“Sorry, Sarge.” He didn’t sound sorry, but he instantly started giving updates on the location of the wolves loose in vamp HQ. Not all of them had stayed in the ballroom.

Derek and I met eyes. I said, “We need to find the female were-cat. Katie fed off her.”

He gave me a chin-jut of understanding. “You take care of the MOC. I’ll get the premises locked down and the wolves contained.”

“How?”

“Trank guns. All my guys got ’em.”

I should have thought of that. But who would have expected werewolves to attack? And if not wolves, then who had he been planning to tranquilize? Q and A for later. Job now.

We spun in opposite directions, Derek trotting through the doors issuing orders, me wading through the vamps after Leo and Katie, caught in a mortal embrace.

I was stopped by Dominique, heir to Arceneau, and Bettina, master of Laurent. They were facing off, the energies between them cracking with fury. Both had blood-splattered clothes and bloody mouths; both had flushed skin and smelled warm-blooded. They had fed. Fully.

I grabbed an arm on each and shook them hard. “You can challenge each other tomorrow night. Get your vamps and servants together and follow me.” I was as surprised as anyone when they looked from each other to me and nodded.

Dominique called aloud to Grégoire. Bettina closed her eyes. Shaun Mac Lochlainn, her heir, and her other two vamps raced through the melee to her side, all three with torn clothes and bloodied bodies. The summoning was impressive, and so were the men who responded to her call. It made me wonder if she had mind-joined with Shaun. More to think about later. More slowly, Dominique and her clan gathered. The human blood-servants followed, surrounding their masters. The clan leaders had gone from mortal enemies to allies in a human heartbeat.