The voices rushed up against my ears urgently and hands jostled me in place, forcing me to drop my wrist.
“Stop what?” I yelled. “You said two minutes ago I had to feed her. She clearly needs my blood or she’s not going to wake up.” I glanced down at her arm where the silver had been secured. It wasn’t healing. “What do I need to do? Stop giving me one word answers and tell me.”
“Must release the blood.”
“What do you mean release the blood? You’re not talking about the blood in the bottom of this altar, right? Please tell me you’re not talking about the blood that has been draining from her all this time and is now sloshing around in this giant marble bathtub.”
“If the blood is not freed, she cannot heal.”
“It keeps her here.”
“The blood binds her to it.”
They were definitely talking about something I didn’t understand.
My arms prickled. Shivering, I stepped back and searched the room again, but I didn’t feel any spells. I glanced down at Naomi. The only it they could be talking about had to be inside the stone altar. Tentatively, like reaching out to pet a rabid animal, I placed both my palms on top of the white and gray veined marble platform.
Something pulsed beneath them.
Did you feel that? I asked my wolf as I slid my hands to another location trying to sense what was happening. Her blood is feeding something. Another small vibration flittered under my palms, like a heartbeat. Holy shit. Whatever they hooked her up to just got a payday with my blood.
“What’s in there? What’s feeding off her?” I called. The marble jumped under my hands again, this time much stronger. It knew I was here and it was angry. But it wasn’t formed enough to break free, and I just stopped its food supply. It had been so close. Too close.
“The Strigoi stir.”
“The soul wakes.”
“It is always hungry.”
Oh, dear gods. A Strigoi was the spirit of a dead vampire. In the lore we called them Screamers—vamps whose physical bodies died a true death, but their spirits hung around to wreak havoc on the living. Just like the ones floating around me now, except myth stated that Screamers could still feed on blood. “Can a Screamer really become corporeal if it drinks enough blood?” I urged. I knew only a few stories, but they were legendary. Hideous bloodsuckers with incredible strength that couldn’t be killed. “You have to tell me. How dangerous are they?” I gave an inward shudder. When the ghosts didn’t answer, I yelled, “Tell me!”
At my raised voice, the marble top bounced, jutting to the side. The platform wasn’t attached to the bottom of the altar.
No more time.
We have to drain her blood out of this thing, I told my wolf. I don’t think it’s full, but I’m not taking any chances. No more blood, no more Screamer. I crouched down and peered inside the hole, keeping a good distance away. The blood was moving and sloshing around in earnest now. We have to smash it with something near the bottom so it drains quickly. I hoped it would be enough.
It had to be enough.
I jumped up and scanned the room. My fist might get through the thick marble in my Lycan form, but now wouldn’t be the time to break my hand to pieces. Once the deed was done, I had to get Naomi out as soon as possible. I didn’t have time to regenerate. “Is there something to smash the marble with in here?” I asked the ghosts. No one answered. For the first time I noticed everything had gone completely quiet.
One lone whisper came flitting into my ear. “They have gone. We fear the Strigoi. They hurt us.”
I made my way around the mausoleum, my hands brushing against the smooth walls searching for something strong enough to bash in the marble. “You stayed. So help me,” I told the ghost. The entire room was roughly thirty by thirty. “We have to find something that will withstand me smashing it into the altar. Is there anything hooked to the walls?”
“Look up,” the voice whispered.
18
I angled my head toward the ceiling. Right at the very top, secured from the midpoint of the roof, was a marble gargoyle head. “It’s not alive, is it?”
“No.”
“Thank goodness for small favors,” I muttered. It hung about fifteen feet above me. I glanced around. Okay, we come at it from a run, kick off from the altar and grab it. We have to tear it off in one jump. My wolf barked her agreement. I jogged back to the corner and took off, springing to the edge of the marble near Naomi’s feet and leaping, reaching it easily. My hands closed around its pointy ears and on the way down I cranked like I was twisting the top off a jar and the chunk of marble gargoyle head snapped off in my grip.
I half expected it to yowl at me and come to life, but it didn’t.
One small win in this sea of insanity.