Jabril(79)

"He will be soon,” Raphael said absently, straining to find Cyn through the storm of Jabril's death call. His head jerked up as Cyn's cry of terror suddenly pierced the tumult.

"Stop!” He said it with such force of will that all three drivers were hitting the brakes before their conscious minds were even aware that an order had been given. “Duncan,” Raphael said sharply, and then he was gone, the door hanging open to the breeze of his passage.

"Bring the vehicles,” Duncan ordered the surprised Winona as he shoved past her to follow Juro, who'd ripped the passenger door open with such fury that the metal was still groaning with strain.

In a matter of moments, the vehicles had emptied out, leaving only Winona and the drivers on the desolate road.

Chapter Fifty-six

Cyn covered her ears against the howls of the maddened vampires. She only wished she could tear her horrified gaze away from the sight of Windle being torn apart piece by piece, the vampires ripping off chunks of flesh, sucking on the meat and fighting with each other over the spoils.

Only Asim seemed unaffected, standing motionless with his back to the truck. One of the crazed vampires leapt for the truck, and Cyn tried to scream over the bile surging up her throat. She shoved herself away from the window and against the back of the seat, but Asim repelled the attacker easily. He threw the vampire into the arms of another, and watched calmly as the two began tearing at each other in a renewed frenzy.

Apparently, Asim's plan for dealing with Jabril's minions involved letting them destroy each other so he wouldn't have to.

Cyn stared in shock a few moments longer, and then jerked herself into motion. She had no illusions about Asim's willingness to keep their bargain, because she had no intention of keeping her part of it either. Did he really think she would turn over Liz to save herself? Of course, he did. This was the guy who, at this very moment, was letting his future subjects tear each other apart in order to make his life easier over the next few days. Nothing Asim did would surprise her.

Her glance fell on the gun he'd let her use to kill Jabril. Well, almost nothing, she thought. She searched the compartment until she found the second gun with its full magazine of Hydra-Shok, checked it quickly and tucked it against her back beneath her jacket, then turned to the unconscious Liz.

The neck wound had sealed over already, which was typical of a vampire bite. Nature was a wonderful thing. Sometimes. Cyn felt the girl's forehead, brushing away a lock of blond hair. It was cool, but dry, and when she checked her pulse, it was strong. Jabril had a lot of experience draining women; he knew how much he could take without damaging his victim. It was fortunate he'd needed Liz alive.

Cyn became aware it had grown silent outside the truck, and she looked up to see Asim laying his hands on a kneeling vampire. It reminded her of Raphael's ceremony with Mirabelle, and she realized he was probably doing very much the same thing. She wondered if Asim was strong enough to hold Jabril's territory, but didn't waste too much effort worrying about it. After all, if she had her way, Jabril's territory would still be very much in need of a new lord after tonight.

Asim lifted his hands from the head of his newest minion, his shoulders slumping briefly in exhaustion. The newly sworn vamp remained on his knees, swaying slightly, eyes closed. Only one other vampire knelt next to him, and he was in an even worse state, leaning back onto his heels, head lolling in semiconsciousness. Both were spattered with blood and bore the signs of a hard fight. As if aware of her scrutiny, Asim spun around and strode toward the truck, his eyes meeting hers across the distance.

Cyn steeled herself with a deep breath. Adrenaline had her heart pounding, her blood rushing and every nerve zinging. She fought the urge to touch the weapon hidden at the small of her back and instead clenched her fingers around the gun Asim knew about, the one she'd used to kill Jabril. She held it in plain sight, not even flinching when Asim reached for the truck and pulled the heavy cargo door upward. Faster than she could follow, he leaned over and took the gun from her hand, holding her wrist and squeezing it painfully. “We don't want any accidents now, do we, Cynthia?"

He gave her a quick grin, and then brought her hand to his mouth, licking away the blood still leaking from her torn fingers. “Jabril was right. Your blood is delicious."

Cyn swallowed her revulsion and glared at him instead. “Elizabeth needs medical help, a hospital."

He ignored her, dropping her hand and reaching in to lift Liz in his arms. “Do you know what happens when a vampire lord dies, Cynthia?” he asked. His eyes flicked up at her, then around the body-strewn desert. “I mean apart from this,” he dismissed. “Do you know how his replacement is chosen? His assassin inherits everything. His power, his territory.” He caressed the unconscious Liz with a dreamy smile. “Everything that was Jabril's is now mine."

"But you didn't kill him. I did."

Asim laughed. “Who would believe that? Jabril had Mirabelle, but I shall have Elizabeth.” He shifted his gaze to her and it hardened. “And you too, my dear.” He licked his lips as if savoring the taste of her blood. “My personal harem."

She wasn't even surprised. “That wasn't our deal,” she reminded him gently.

"No, I suppose not,” he agreed. “Perhaps I'll trade you back to Raphael eventually. In return for his support.” He shifted Elizabeth in his arms and jerked his head toward Cyn. “Come along now. We'll leave these others for the sun.” He turned and walked toward the waiting limo.

Cyn took two steps behind him, drew the second gun and fired. Three shots to the back of his head. Bam, bam, bam. She took care to angle the barrel up and away from where he was carrying Liz against his thin chest, but couldn't help the spray of blood and gore as the vampire's head blew apart. “Think again, a**hole,” she hissed.

The nascent vampire lord crumpled to the ground, dropping Elizabeth and falling on top of her. Cyn stood looking down at him, breathing hard, almost unable to believe it had worked. With a jolt of fear, she remembered the other vampires and spun around, gun raised to shoot. But the shock of losing a second master in one night was too much for the already weakened vampires. Both lay senseless in the dirt.

Cyn drew a tired breath and wondered where she'd find the strength to finish tonight's work. She leaned forward, resting her hands on her knees, knowing if she sat, she'd never get up again. Finally, too weak to carry Elizabeth to the Land Rover, she dragged Asim's body away and over to the others, got a blanket from the back of the SUV and covered the unconscious girl where she lay. And then she forced herself to keep moving, to walk around the clearing and systematically place a bullet through the brain of every vampire there.

Back again to the Land Rover's cargo compartment, she flipped open yet another weapons’ case. This one was leather, butter soft and luxurious to the touch, with an elegant tooled design. Inside were four lightweight, machine-sanded wooden stakes, each tipped with a folded steel stabbing edge. They were beautiful and lethal, especially designed for her by a knife maker who'd taken pride in his product and etched intricate designs all around the band of each blade where it gripped the wood. It took strength to stab a wooden stake through a vampire's chest. The steel made it easier.

She stared at the stakes and then grabbed all four and went back to her gruesome task. A vampire wasn't dead if he still had a body. She wanted nothing but piles of dust on the desert floor.

A short time later, Cyn crouched next to what was left of her final victim, gun in one hand, stake in the other. All around her, piles of vampire dust began to shift softly as a cool wind blew in across the desert. As if danger followed the wind, the night turned suddenly darker and full of threat. She spun around. Beyond the narrow circle of light cast by the cars’ headlights, the shadows moved, wrapping the night around them and drawing closer. Cyn gripped her weapons tighter, her lip curling in a feral snarl.

The wind blew harder, buffeting the cars with its ferocity. Cyn's hair blew across her face, and she brushed it away with an impatient gesture, staring as a sable whirlwind appeared from the storm, blacker than the night around it, moving faster, sucking up the darkness as it approached. She stood and moved closer to where Liz lay helpless, her heart pounding, her mouth dry with fear.

The midnight wind blew between the cars. Cyn raised her gun. And the shadows fell away.

Juro moved first, placing himself between Raphael and the gun Cyn held in a shaky, one-handed grip. Raphael raised a hand and Juro stood aside.