Hope flared in her heart. She knew for a fact the quarters were fireproof. The issue had come up two years ago during an attack when Daron was still the Riverdale prince. If the vampires had gotten inside, Kirsch would have to starve them out or dismantle the thick walls rock by rock. They might be in time. “How many are with the warlock, and who are they?”
“I saw three vampires and a couple of heavily armed werebears. Not many, but the warlock has witch fire.” A cloud settled on Oliver’s normally impassive face. “He burned Glorius and dozens of others. It was bad.”
Ari’s lips twisted, her stomach rolling at the picture he painted. She hadn’t cared for Glorius, who had slept with Andreas and still insisted on flirting with him, but she hadn’t wanted her dead. Not really. Not by fire. She didn’t even want to know who else had died. Not until this was over. “By the Goddess, I’m sorry, Oliver, but we’ll deal with it later. Right now, we need to take control of the compound. Appoint someone to get people out of here in an orderly fashion.” She looked him over. “Have your people fed?”
He nodded. “They allowed us to feed from stored blood. Bartole wanted to rule us, not kill us,” he said dryly.
“Good. Then we’ll take a dozen with us. The tunnels are too narrow for more.”
While Oliver was making arrangements, Ari spoke with Ryan and the SWAT leader. “I think this is the point where you pull back. You’ve done a terrific job. Now we need to clean our own house.” She stuck out her hand to the SWAT officer. “Thank you.”
He took it and nodded. “No problem. It’s the job.”
Yeah, right. Facing supernatural creatures shooting fire balls at you wasn’t exactly an ordinary day, even for SWAT.
“We’ll see that everyone else gets out of the compound,” Ryan said.
“One last thing,” she said, turning back to the SWAT commander. “I’ll make sure your fallen officer gets a commendation.”
* * *
Ari, Oliver, and Steffan, followed by a contingency of vampires and wolves, headed for the innermost chambers. At the third intersection, they were greeted by gunfire.
She flattened against the wall and called to the shooters. “Hold your fire. Tell the warlock the fight is over. We’ve freed the other vampires, and they aren’t happy. If you have any hope of leaving here alive, now’s the time to lay down your guns.”
“I’m right here, Ari. My men are not interested in surrendering. We still have Gabriel and several others. Do you want to see them die?”
Startled by the nearness of the warlock’s voice, Ari drew back a step from the corner. “You’re lying, warlock. You can’t hurt them, if you can’t get beyond the rock wall. Have you discovered their chambers are fireproof or that you can’t teleport in? You can thank me for the warding. Time’s run out, Kirsch. Surrender now—or we’re shooting our way in.”
She leaped forward in response to a sudden surge of magic and raced around the turn to see the last shimmer as the warlock disappeared. Caught off guard by Kirsch’s desertion, the werebears were slow in reacting to Ari’s appearance. She’d hit the ground before the first shot was fired, rolled and came up firing the Walther. She took out one bear with a double-tap to the head. Steffan’s wolves swarmed past her, silencing the second. The three foreign vamps made an attempt to leap over them and break away, but Andreas’s vampires quickly took them down. The confrontation ended with predictable results, when five faced two dozen.
Ari took in the scene with a scowl. The coward. Kirsch had saved himself but left his companions behind to die. One of the vamp corpses must be Bartole, the would-be prince. She stepped over the bodies and crossed to what appeared to be a solid wall of rock. There was a hidden door somewhere, but she didn’t know how to trigger it. She pounded and yelled Gabriel’s name several times. Finally the rocks shifted, and an opening appeared. The wary face of a vampire guard peeked out.
“Guardian,” he said in relief.
An instant later, Gabriel, rather disheveled, climbed through the entrance and swept Ari into a huge embrace. “Hallelujah, am I glad to see you, love!” Almost immediately, the handsome blond vampire set her down and backed away.
Ari noticed his lips were starting to bulge, a tip of fang showing. They hadn’t fed. Which meant anyone with “live” blood would smell like prime steak.
“Uh, sorry.” He held a hand over his mouth, clearly embarrassed. “It’s been a long dry spell.”
“I understand. You haven’t had access to blood.” She took a cautious step backward, waving at the wolves, urging them to pull back into the tunnels. “I think the warlock is gone, but you should probably leave the compound as soon as possible until your people can sweep and secure it.” She took a second step back as other faces appeared behind Gabriel, acting a little less civilized. She’d really like to get out of there without having to shoot any of the vamps they’d come to save.
Gabriel put out his arms, blocking the vampires behind him. “I’ve already called for an emergency delivery. They should be here any time. I told them to hurry.”
“Then the communication barrier is gone?”
“Yes, um, can you go now? I’ll find you as soon as I can.” He turned to physically push one of the vampires back inside the sleeping quarters.
“We have wounded to attend to. I’ll be at the hospital.”
In spite of his urgent situation, Gabriel frowned at her over his shoulder. “Who?”
“Brando.” She didn’t wait around to explain further.
She and the wolves hurried back through the maze of tunnels. The dozen vampires who’d come with her stayed behind to help Gabriel. She met the blood bank delivery on the way and quit checking over her shoulder. She focused on finding her way out and reaching Claris and Brando.
* * *
The clock on the wall of the fourth floor Intensive Care Unit struck 3:00 a.m. Ari stretched her neck and shoulders. She’d been there two hours. Brando’s condition had continued to deteriorate, and he had slipped into a coma shortly after she arrived. He’d talked with Claris long enough to tell her again that he loved her, but Ari planned to deliver the message as many times as it took until she knew Claris heard it in the midst of all the grief.
An hour ago the doctors had warned the family it was only a matter of time. She and Claris had stood over Brando’s bed, clutching each other, shedding desperate tears. Since then, Claris had spent most of her time consoling Brando’s parents, and Ari had just waited.
Steffan had taken his pack home to recuperate from the bullets they’d taken in that final fight, but she expected him back soon. He’d called twice, but he would want to be here, not just for Claris or Ari, but because he and Brando had become good friends. He was dropping Mangi back at the shop. Until someone could talk with Zylla, the javey would wait there for Claris to return. No one could be certain the danger to her was over.
Ryan sat across the waiting room by himself, seemingly lost in thought. He said he was waiting for Gabriel to arrive so he could finish his report. As if she believed that. Gabriel couldn’t add much information to the SWAT officer’s death, and the police brass wouldn’t be interested in much else. No, Ryan was here because he was as worried and guilt-ridden as everyone else.
She got up and walked over to the couch where Claris sat with Brando’s parents, Margot and Victor Seilmann. “I’m going for coffee. Can I bring back anything?”
“I’d love some tea.” Claris’s eyes were puffy but her voice under control. “I’m sure Margot could use some too. Victor?”
He shook his head, his eyes revealing a misery he hadn’t yet come to terms with. Mrs. Seilmann didn’t even acknowledge the conversation but sat staring at the floor.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Claris asked. “I could use the walk.”
Ari saw the plea in her friend’s eyes. “Of course. We can pick out a selection of cookies and snacks to bring back.” She nodded at the hunched figure across the room. “I think we should collect Ryan on our
way out.”
He agreed readily enough. Ari thought he was glad to do something. When the elevator doors opened to admit them, Steffan and Gabriel were already inside.
“Any change?” Steffan asked.
Ari shook her head. “We’re going to the cafeteria.”
The two men moved to the back, and the five friends rode down in near silence, each one hoping for, but knowing the odds were against, a miracle in the room upstairs.
* * *
Once they’d selected drinks and snacks for the Seilmanns and Claris had her own tea, Claris picked up the tray. “I’ll leave you to talk. I know you still have business to do, but I’m not ready to think about anything except Brando. I’ll just take this to his parents.”
“I’ll go with you.” Steffan stood and took the tray. “Gabriel already filled me in on the essentials, and I can hear the details later.”
“I can come too. Clare?” Ari eyed her friend. “This can wait.”
“No, it can’t.” Claris deliberately met her gaze. “Remember how you felt after Yana died? Well, I want that now.”
Ari nodded once. Of course she remembered. After the wolves murdered her friend, Ari wanted vengeance…wanted the killers to pay. It might not be the most charitable reaction, and maybe it wasn’t right, but it was what it was. “I’ll find him,” she promised.
After Steffan and Claris left, Ryan located a table off to one side, and Gabriel filled them in on the last twenty-four hours.
“The warlock and five assassins teleported in and totally surprised us. By the time the wards started shrieking, they were already in the chambers. I was in the Blue Room. A couple of nests were holding meetings in the audience chambers.” Gabriel’s look hardened. “He turned his fire on everyone in the main room and killed most of them. It all happened so fast we couldn’t stop it.” He rubbed his face, as if trying to wipe the scene away. “They didn’t have a chance.” Gabriel slumped in his chair. “Andreas would have known what to do, but I didn’t.”
“That’s not true. It was a cowardly attack.” She reached out a hand to touch his shoulder. “You did what you could. This blood is on the warlock’s hands. Did he give you a name?”
“No. Bartole was introduced later, but not the warlock. He demanded I put out the call, or he’d burn everyone else in the compound.”
“The call?” Ryan asked. “What call?”
“A vampire prince, or in this case his second-in-command, can put out a psychic call that will compel every vampire pledged to the court to appear.” He glanced at Ari. “I felt I had no alternative.” Gabriel shook his head in frustration. “I hoped with more people we could overpower him. But that isn’t what happened.”
Ryan was hung up on the details. “You mean this was some mental thing, like telepathy?”
“Somewhat,” Gabriel said. “It’s an extension of our ability to bespell. Anyway, they kept most of the leadership in the Blue Room while everyone else gathered in the audience chambers. Somehow Oliver ended up in there, so he told us what happened. Bartole declared himself the new prince, and then the werebears barred the chamber door with silver chains.”
“So how’d you end up in the sleeping quarters?”
“Glorius. She leaped on the warlock, so the rest of us could get away. I wouldn’t have left her, except the guards literally picked me up and carried me off.” Gabriel had ingested enough blood since she’d seen him at the compound that he flushed with embarrassment.
“It was their job,” Ari reminded him gently. “Glorius and the guards had sworn to protect their leader, even at the cost of their lives. Just like you are sworn to Andreas.”
Gabriel sighed. “I wish he was here. I can’t help thinking that it might have gone better. I’m more comfortable following his lead.” His voice was hollow, haunted.
“How could Andreas have done better? You held out until we got to you. And now he needs you to pick up the pieces for him.”
“I’ll do my best, but where is he? Why are you in Riverdale without him?”
She told him about events in Europe, including how she’d met the two German warlocks. “Looking back, I realize they both asked a lot of questions about Riverdale, although none of it was about the vampires. I thought it was idle curiosity, but now I wonder if they were gathering information on our friends.” She glanced toward the elevator. “We should get upstairs to Claris. She shouldn’t be alone—for more reasons than one.”
Gabriel stood, his eyes clouded by worry. “I have to hurry before the sun comes up. I still need to give some instructions to our lycanthropes about security at the compound. But one last thing…Andreas and I have both seen Bartole before. He was a favorite at the court of the O-Seven two hundred years ago.”
Chapter Ten
Brando died at dawn. The woman doctor gave the news as gently as possible, but nothing could soften the blow. Ari and Claris fell into each other’s arms. It was hard to believe they’d never see their childhood friend again.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. Claris’s shop was closed, but human and Otherworld friends streamed in and out of the greenhouse door. Mangi stayed in the shop up front, away from the other guests, but still refusing to leave. Ari left him alone. In fact, she felt better knowing he was still watching out for Claris.
Ari refilled the coffee pot and set out plates of petit French pastries someone bought at the nearby shop. It was good to keep active. Every time she sat down, memories of Brando took over. Although he and Claris had only dated the last two and a half years, he’d been crazy about her since he used to pull her pigtails in second grade.
Ari spied a laughing snapshot of Brando that someone had laid on the refreshment table. A new wave of emptiness washed over her. The loss was painful, but watching Claris was worse. Most of the time her friend sat stoically at the kitchen table with Hernando, the white Siamese, curled at her feet or on her lap. Ari learned not to hug her friend too often; each time Claris burst into heart-wrenching sobs.
By early afternoon, both women were exhausted. Via several phone calls with Brando’s family, the memorial service was arranged for ten o’clock the next morning. Once those plans were made, Ari convinced Claris to take a nap, then she went home to her own bed. She returned at dinnertime to find Claris setting out sandwiches and casseroles brought in by other visitors. Even in an unconventional place like Olde Town, traditional community habits associated with the grieving process still prevailed. Claris wouldn’t need to cook for days.
Ryan, Steffan, three shop customers, the proprietor of the gift shop next door, and a sprinkling of Brando’s friends from the science side of his life were already there when Ari arrived. She hugged Claris, and no one burst into tears this time.
“Sleep helped,” Claris said in answer to Ari’s unspoken question. “I’m still numb. I just never expected him to die this way. He was a scientist.”
“He should never have been involved. I wish I had—”
“No, don’t blame yourself.” Claris clasped her hand. “Brando wanted to help. And Nathan was so caught up in the excitement he wasn’t thinking straight. After you left, he kept asking what we thought was going on.” Claris sighed. “He wanted to be part of it, and he thought the warlock was a friend.”
That was the trouble with civilians getting involved. They didn’t understand the treachery that bad guys were capable of.
“But going after him was such a crazy thing for Brando to do.” Claris’s voice was barely above a whisper.
Ryan walked up in time to hear her last words. “Crazy, maybe, but still heroic. He reacted like a true hero.”
Ari squeezed Claris’s hand. “It’s true. He died trying to save someone’s life.”
“He did, didn’t he?” Tears welled again and spilled down Claris’s face.
“And it’s a good thing that Mangi was there, or you would have been hurt too,” Ryan reminded her.
“Yeah, I know.” Claris wiped her face and glanced at the beaded curtain that
led to the shop. “That’s why I ordered him the super-size veggie pizza he’s devouring up front.”
A new arrival walked up to express her sympathy, and Ari turned away. She wanted to check on Mangi and thank him herself. The little guy had come through in a big way and prevented this from becoming a worse tragedy than it was.
“Oh!” Sharp pain spiked through her chest, and Ari stumbled, doubling over, hugging herself. The room spun. Flashing images of impenetrable darkness, burning silver chains, a musty, damp smell.
The terrible, all consuming hunger.
“No, oh no,” she moaned. She sagged, held up only by someone gripping her arms. Then just as suddenly everything returned to normal. The pain receded; the room slid back into place. Ryan held her by one arm; Claris had the other.
“What happened? What’s wrong?” Claris demanded, her voice just short of hysteria.
“Ari?” Ryan had obviously been repeating her name. “Is there someplace she can lie down?”
“Upstairs. What’s wrong with her?” Claris and Ryan steered her toward the stairs. The crowd moved back to make way. Someone offered a glass of water.
“I’m all right.” Ari protested feebly, but she allowed them to take her upstairs. She needed a moment to process what had happened. She stopped at the top of the second floor landing. “It’s Andreas.” She took a ragged breath. “The bastards are torturing him. It had to be bad for him to lose control of his shields like that. I saw him bound with chains, felt his pain. His hunger.” She shivered.
“Oh, Ari, you have to do something.” Tears fed by raw emotion flowed down Claris’s face. “We can’t…” She choked and tried again. “We can’t lose them both.”