Blue-Blooded Vamp Page 31


Tristan Graecus.


“What the hell are you doing here?” I yelled.


He grabbed my arm. “Saving your ass!” My father wore a black trench coat and jeans with Doc Martens boots. Quite a change from the medieval monk thing he had going on a few nights earlier.


“We have to go!” he yelled, struggling to hang on to me.


A werewolf appeared from the smoke and took a swipe at me. Out of nowhere, a flash of green streaked past me and attacked the were. Relief flooded through me as I watched Giguhl make quick work of the humanoid werewolf. If it had been a full moon, the victory would not have been so easy.


A female vampire rushed toward us. Her cherry hair was cut into a sleek bob, but her outfit was pure commando. The drab color and streaks of dirt were harsh counterpoints to the beauty of her delicate features. “T, we need to move!”


“Who the hell are you?” I demanded.


“She’s with me,” Tristan yelled over the din.


“Sabina!” Adam’s shout reached me. I turned to see him battling his way through the weres to get to us. I had never been happier to see the mancy. I threw myself at him. His arms wrapped around me automatically.


“Thank the gods we got here in time,” he said into my hair.


“How did you find me?”


“Lazarus, we’ve got to go!” Tristan yelled.


Adam nodded at my father. To me, he said, “I’ll explain later.” He kissed my forehead. “Promise.”


I nodded. Now wasn’t the time for talk. We needed to get the hell out of Dodge.


Tristan and the vampire started hacking through Cain’s thugs. Instead of arguing, I grabbed the gun Adam offered and took off. At my nod, Giguhl fell in behind us.


“Sabina!” Cain’s voice carried over the clash of weapons, the low growls of the weres, and the battle cries. The sound raised the hairs on the back of my neck. Wanting to get out of there suddenly became needing to get out. If I hesitated, I knew in my gut that Cain’s punishment would be swift and severe.


“Please tell me you know a way out of here,” I shouted to my father.


The vamp raised her free hand. “That way.”


A male vampire with a silver sword and female fae with a quiver and bow flanked us. I blinked, realizing they were the same pair I’d seen at the Spanish Steps.


Even with the armed escort, I didn’t let my guard down. Until we were clear of the catacombs and far away from Cain, I wouldn’t ever relax.


“SABINA!” Cain’s scream shook the walls.


Tristan turned. “Horus, Calyx, fall back and hold them off until we’re clear. Then run like hell.” The pair nodded and turned out from our phalanx. Behind us, the sounds of fighting renewed. “Hurry!” my father urged the rest of us.


Running. After all those years as a predator, I’d now been reduced to prey. My thighs burned with exertion and my heart pumped blood like a piston. Our pounding footsteps and the harsh rasps of our breaths echoed off the tunnel walls.


The sounds of battle became muted as we wound our way through countless twists and turns. Every now and then, Tristan would look back to make sure we were keeping up.


“Sabiiina,” Cain’s voice was taunting now. It crept through the narrow corridors like poisonous gas. Cold sweat and fear seeped through my pores.


Lowering my head, I dug in and pushed harder. Tristan’s vampire led the way. Next to me, Adam’s thumping pulse was a visceral sensation in my solar plexus. I focused on counting the beats to distract myself from the fear. I tried to remind myself that Cain didn’t have the magical skills of a mage or the preternatural speed of a vampire. In the end, he was simply a man.


“Why can’t you guys just flash us out of here?” Giguhl demanded after we’d run for what felt like miles.


“I won’t leave Calyx and Horus behind. We’ll flash out once they return,” Tristan said. “Just a little farther.”


The vampiress led us to what appeared to be a dead end. But then she held up the torch to show a scaffold set against the walls. A tall ceiling rose above this section of the tunnel, probably twenty feet high. She handed the torch to Tristan and started climbing.


“Where’s she going?” My voice was breathless and high from fear.


“The Christians built in skylights and airshafts during construction. Many have been closed or built over from above. She’s checking to see if this one is still open.”


A piecing whistle reached us from somewhere above. Then thin, blue light filtered down. The rush of air that accompanied the light smelled a lot like freedom.


Chapter 17


I leaned against the crumbling stone wall. Sweat and dirt coated every inch of my skin. Relief at losing our pursuers warred with resentment in my gut. I didn’t want to owe Tristan a debt for saving my ass. Especially when my plan to blackmail him into helping us had crashed and burned so spectacularly.


“That was way too close,” the female vampire said.


“Needlessly so,” Tristan snapped. He rounded on me. “I thought I told you to leave Rome.”


I raised my chin. “I am not yours to command.”


“Well someone needs to. What the hell were you thinking?”


I frowned. “With which part, exactly?”


Giguhl snorted.


“Your teammates filled me in on your ludicrous plan.”


I crossed my arms defensively. “At least I had a fucking plan. Unlike some people who are ready to surrender before the real battle’s even begun.”


“Your sarcasm is both unwarranted and unnecessary.”


“Your existence is unnecessary,” I shot back.


“Ouch,” the vampire chick said. “Can we put aside family dysfunction hour for a few minutes so we can formulate a plan to get very far away from here?”


I sucked at my teeth, daydreaming about telling both of them to go fuck themselves. But I knew that was only my battered ego talking. Plus, she was right; our hideout was not safe enough.


We’d taken refuge in a farmhouse a couple of miles from the shaft we’d exited. The stone was blackened and crumbling from years of exposure to the elements. The roof, such as it was, had gaping holes that exposed the clear night sky. The first pale streaks of dawn already decorated the horizon.


Tristan nodded toward the vampire and faery, who’d come through the airshaft a couple of moments earlier. I noted that all of Tristan’s people wore small golden pins bearing his sword and chalice symbol.


“Now that Horus and Calyx have returned, we need to move to the safe house up north.”


“Excuse me?” I interrupted. “But how in the hell are we going to defeat him if we leave Rome?”


Tristan tilted his head. “Your ignorance is breathtaking. The trick with Cain is to stay a step ahead. If we’re in Rome, we’ll be sitting ducks.”


My eyes flared and my fists clenched.


“Sabina…,” Adam began, no doubt trying to intercept an outburst. I held up a hand to cut him off. I drew in a long, slow breath through my nose. Despite my father’s crappy personality, I needed him if I was going to defeat Cain.


“Look, I’m sorry, but I’ve had a really shitty night,” I said. “But I appreciate you helping us.”


Tristan’s eyes narrowed, like he expected a trick.


“Really. But how did you guys manage to find me?”


Tristan’s gaze swiveled to Adam. The mancy held up his cell phone. “A little mortal magic.”


I frowned. “What?”


He smirked. “Your phone had a GPS tracker.”


I remembered then that Cain had my cell phone in his pocket the entire time. “Well, thank the gods for small favors.”


“Speaking of,” Tristan said, “before we continue, I need all of your cell phones and other means of communication.”


“Why?” I asked, making no effort to hide the suspicion in my tone.


“Because from this moment on, we’re going on blackout. We can’t risk Cain tracking our devices like we tracked yours. Plus, I need to be sure none of you are going to communicate with anyone who might be tortured to betray our location.”


His logic, annoyingly, made total sense. Besides, if we needed to talk to anyone back in the States, Adam could just flash there. Since Cain still had my cell, I looked to Adam. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and passed it to Tristan.


“Thank you for understanding,” Tristan said. He dropped the phone to the ground and smashed it to tiny pieces with his boots.


“So what’s the plan, people?” Giguhl asked.


Tristan shot the demon an annoyed look, like Giguhl had overstepped. He answered, but when he did, he spoke to me as if I’d asked instead of my minion. “First, we need to get out of Rome. We have a farm near Tuscany. Between me and Lazarus”—he nodded at Adam—“we should be able to flash all of us there.”


“How far is it?” I asked.


“Far enough,” he evaded. “If we head out now, we can reach it before sunrise.”


“Does this mean you’ve changed you mind about working together?” I said.


Tristan’s mouth hardened into a thin line. “No. It means I can’t trust you to leave Rome on your own, so I’m taking you away myself.”


I suddenly understood why so many people bitched about having parents. All my life, I’d longed for a benevolent parental figure to nurture and support me. But if my experience with Tristan so far was a taste of what being parented was like, I decided being an orphan was the way to go.


I opened my mouth to tell Tristan I had no intention of allowing him to hide me away while he got to have all the fun, but Adam elbowed me. Shooting him a glare, I noticed Giguhl was making cease-and-desist gestures, too. Traitors.


“I believe your friends are trying to hint that you should hold your tongue. Smart of them,” Tristan said, his tone dry. “I’m well acquainted with the infamous Kane temper and I assure you it will do little to sway me.”