Carolyn. Vincent cursed himself. Lana was right. There was no time to waste. He stabbed a spear of power into Poncio’s chest and incinerated his heart, ending the man’s useless life once and for all.
Vincent took Lana’s arm as he turned, momentarily startled by the fresh sight of her braless chest beneath the white tank and covered by his jacket. Shit.
“You should get dressed before we head over to the barn.”
“I’m okay if you don’t want to—”
“You’ll get dressed, Lana. It will only take a moment, and it’s cold,” he added, though it sounded lame even to his own ears. The truth was, he didn’t want Jerry or Salvio or anyone else seeing her like that.
“Yes, sir, master, sir,” she said, but she sounded more amused than anything else. Vincent suspected she knew the real reason he wanted her covered.
They didn’t linger in the house. Poncio had already given them what they wanted. Vincent went ahead of her down the stairs, mostly so he could grab her bundle of clothing and bring it back inside. The guard in the kitchen was out cold and would stay that way for several hours still. So, there was no reason for her to change out in the open . . . where anyone might see her.
Lana removed his jacket, then disappeared into the sitting room opposite the kitchen to get dressed. It took only a few minutes, but when she returned, he saw that her bra was back in place, as well as her long-sleeved T-shirt, and that her shoulder harness was once more secured as she pulled her own jacket on over it.
“So what’s the plan?” she asked, handing him back his jacket, and then working to re-braid her hair.
“I can’t be sure, but it’s very possible that Salvio felt Poncio’s death. Had Poncio been a vampire master, Salvio would definitely know. But if—” Vincent froze as a sudden strong thread of alarm jolted his senses. It wasn’t his own perception, which meant . . . Jerry. There was no other vampire around who belonged to him.
“Let’s go,” he said urgently. “Something’s happened.”
He would have waited for Lana, but she slapped his shoulder and said, “Go. I’ll catch up.”
Vincent did a quick survey to be sure there was no danger lurking in the shadows, then took off with a burst of vampiric speed that had him out of the courtyard and in sight of the barn in a moment’s time.
Jerry was no longer concealed in the shadows, but had moved to the center of the yard. He was staring at the barn where Vincent could see the outline of a bright light around the closed door.
“Jerry?” he asked.
“Sir,” Jerry said, acknowledging him. “Lana?” he asked.
“Right here,” Lana said before Vincent could answer. She came up behind them, not even slightly short of breath from her run.
“I heard shots, sir. Automatic weapons on full, and screaming. Lots of screaming,” Jerry said. “Not one person, but many.”
Vincent frowned, contemplating the possibilities. But then the barn door opened and he didn’t have to wonder anymore. A single person was silhouetted in the doorway, a vampire, not a human. Salvio?
Jerry started forward and the unknown vampire did the same, stumbling to his knees when the two were less than ten feet apart. He’d been shot. His chest was a bloody mess, and his left arm appeared broken at best, ravaged by gunfire at worst.
“Jerry?” the new vampire said, his voice weak with blood loss.
“It’s all right, Salvio,” Jerry assured him, rushing forward to kneel at his side. He spoke English, which told Vincent that Salvio at least understood that language. “My human master is dead,” Jerry continued, “As is yours.”
Salvio nodded weakly. “I felt him die. It was my chance.” He tried to brace himself using his injured arm and gasped. His voice, when he continued, was tight with pain. “I killed my guards to get away. The other prisoner, the one I was questioning, he died in the crossfire.”
Jerry put a hand on Salvio’s shoulder in a gesture of support, then gave a sideways nod of his head to indicate Vincent, who still stood just behind him. “This is—” he started to say.
But Vincent spoke up, not waiting for an introduction. There was a protocol among vampires, and it didn’t include waiting for lesser vampires to make introductions. “Salvio,” he said. “I am Vincent.” He bared his power for a heartbeat, long enough to let Salvio know who and what it was he now faced.
“My lord,” Salvio whispered, his head bowed, shoulders slumped in resignation.
Vincent felt a moment’s pity for the vampire. Salvio assumed he’d gone from the proverbial frying pan into the fire. From one cruel master to another even worse, with barely time to breathe in the fresh air of freedom in between.
“It’s all right, Salvio,” Jerry was saying. He rested a gentle hand on his friend’s shoulder in reassurance. “Lord Vincent is not like our human masters. You’ll see for yourself. There is a whole new world for us, my friend.”
“Salvio,” Vincent repeated, demanding attention as he stopped before the kneeling vampire. “Your human master is dead. I killed him. If he were vampire, that would make you mine. But your situation, like Jerry’s, is not that simple. Enrique enslaved you to a human, which goes against every tenet of vampire society. But he is still your Sire, and for now, you belong to him. So, I’m offering you a choice. You can return to Enrique, who may very well hand you over to another human, if he doesn’t execute you on the spot for knowing too much. Or . . . you can pledge your loyalty to me. But know this, Salvio, I do not tolerate disloyalty in my people. Betrayal will be punished swiftly and permanently.”
“Sir, may I?” Jerry asked, looking up at Vincent.