"Is it true what he said?” Asim murmured at her ear. “Could you kill my master with that weapon?"
Cyn fought the instinctive urge to pull away from his hissing breath. “Probably. Long enough to stake him anyway. I was looking forward to it."
Asim was silent for the space of two breaths. “So do it,” he said so softly that the words were little more than air.
Cyn froze, stunned and suspicious. Could she trust the vampire? Why would he do this? On the other hand, what choice did she have?
"Why don't you do it?” she breathed.
"I cannot,” Asim said with simple honesty. “He is my Sire, my master of several centuries.” His voice grew softer, more persuasive. “But you can, Cynthia.” He gestured with a shoulder to where Liz lay unresponsive while Jabril lapped blood from her neck like a fastidious cat. “Is it not worth taking a chance? What do you have to lose?"
What indeed, Cyn thought. She opened her mouth to agree, but then remembered something Raphael had told her about his Mistress's death. “What happens when he dies? What about the others?” She nodded at Jabril's vampire minions who were focused with a singular hunger on what their master was doing.
"They are weak. I will handle them."
"Handle how?” Visions of Asim throwing her and Liz to the wolves flashed vividly through her mind.
Asim chuckled again. “So suspicious. Are we not allies?” He ran a thin finger down her cheek. “I would not waste such beauty on the likes of those. No, I had another sacrifice in mind.” He glanced at the PI's back.
Cyn was repulsed by his casual cruelty, but if was a choice between her and Liz or the PI who had delivered them to the vamps...
"What happens to Liz?"
"She comes with me."
"No."
"Yes,” his voice hardened. “Elizabeth remains with me and you walk away free. That is my offer. Rest assured, I will treat her far better than Jabril ever did Mirabelle."
"I want Liz safe."
"As do I. Time is running out, Cynthia. He will finish soon, and your only chance will be while he is distracted by the feeding. Do we have a deal?"
Cyn swallowed, choking on her next word. “Yes."
The gun nudged into her hand and she took it, running her fingers over its surface, verifying its readiness. Asim's hands dropped from her and she jerked quickly away from him, much to his amusement. She waited until Jabril's girlish mouth lifted away from Liz's pale skin, watched as he threw his head back to savor the blood rolling down his throat. In a single, smooth movement, she raised the gun, took careful aim and fired. Her finger squeezed the trigger twice in quick succession.
Jabril's eyes flashed open in the final seconds, more irritated than alarmed, but it was too late for even a vampire lord. Two perfectly round holes appeared above the bridge of his nose, quickly filling with blood as the rest of his head blew away. He fell backward, propelled by the force of the blast, Liz rolling from his lifeless arms.
Jabril's bodyguards froze long enough for Asim, in a burst of vampire speed, to sweep Liz up and throw her into the truck. Cyn made an aborted movement in the PI's direction, but Asim tumbled her on top of Liz and shoved the bewildered PI toward the dead Jabril with the same motion. Cyn tried to shout a warning but had to jerk away when Asim slammed the hatch shut.
She clambered back to the window in time to see several of Jabril's vamps collapse to their knees, their faces contorted in pain and grief. Others remained standing, but barely. Swaying from side-to-side, eyes blank and staring, their muscles tensing and veins bulging as if under some terrible strain. Suddenly one of them threw his head back and howled, his hands tearing at his own hair, ripping out great bloody chunks of scalp along with it. As if this was some sort of signal, the others responded by pounding on their own flesh, turning their faces to the night sky in a horrible cacophony of mourning.
The first one turned abruptly, his own blood running down his face and hands, his head swiveling slowly from left to right as he scanned the area, eyes flashing yellow with fury when he spied the terrified PI backing slowly out of the circle of cars. The vampire's mouth opened in a vicious grin, his fangs gleaming white and sharp. He howled again, but it was no longer in grief. The maddened vampires turned as one.
And Cyn screamed.
Chapter Fifty-five
They sped through the night silently, the only noise the whistle of tires on asphalt. With no other cars on the road, the vampire drivers had turned off the headlights, seeing better with only the moonlight to guide them. Raphael's thoughts were on the road far ahead, where he could feel Cyn growing more frantic with every mile closer to the border. Surely she knew where she was being taken, and what awaited her there. His people had lost all contact with the outside world some miles back, entering the wireless dead zone. He found it odd that such a thing could still exist in a world where every person seemed to own a cell phone. He heard Duncan curse beneath his breath as he tried once again to establish contact.
"It doesn't matter, Duncan,” he said softly. “She is very near."
"My lord—” Winona began, but Raphael cut her off with a sharp intake of breath. He stiffened abruptly, his gaze trained straight ahead, his eyes glowing molten silver as he reached out instinctively to shield his people against a sudden wash of unrestrained power.
"Jabril,” he growled.
Winona's eyes were wide with confusion, but Duncan understood. “He is dead?” Duncan said in disbelief.