promise."
A long look passed between them, and then she smiled at him.
"He's at old Pietro's winery, and Marisa is with him," Grigori said. "Let's go."
"Are you crazy?" Ramsey exclaimed. "It's a trap."
"Don't you think I know that?" Grigori asked, his voice sharp. "But I can't leave her there. You know what he'll do if I don't come."
"He'll do it anyway!"
"Perhaps, but I told you once before, we'll never catch him until he lets us. This may be our only chance."
"We need a plan," Ramsey said, his agitation rising. He clutched his cross, rubbing it between his palms.
"I plan to kill him," Grigori said.
"We are wasting time," Antoinette said.
"Right, as always, cara," Grigori replied with a wry grin. "Let's go."
Marisa woke to darkness. When she tried to move, she discovered that her hands were bound behind her back. Fighting down the fear that threatened to choke her, she sat up and glanced around. Nothing but blackness met her eyes. She struggled against the ropes that bound her wrists, but to no avail.
Where was Alexi?
Where was Grigori?
Where was she?
She had a vague recollection of waking in a small house, of lying on a bed while Alexi prowled through the rooms. Was this the same house?
With an effort, she gained her feet and then, one shoulder against the wall, she began to walk slowly around the room, searching for a door. She cried out when her knee struck something. Turning around, she felt the obstruction with her hands. It was a staircase. Moving carefully, she climbed up, grunting when she hit her head. She was in a cellar. She could see a sliver of dark blue sky through the crack in the heavy double doors above her head.
"Hello? Is anyone there?" She heard the edge of panic in her voice. "Hello! Help me! Someone, please help me!"
"Someone is coming, Marisa."
The low voice startled her. She whirled around, her foot slipping on the stair. With a shriek, she tumbled down the steps to land in a heap on the earthen floor. The sound of soft laughter filled her ears.
"Grigori will come for you," Alexi said. "And then we will end the game. I will drain his life, and that of the vampyre hunter, as well, and then I shall make you mine."
"No!"
"Oh, yes, Marisa. Do not doubt it." He cocked his head to the side, and smiled. "Listen! They come!"
Grigori stood at the entrance to the cellar, his senses probing the darkness. Marisa was here, and so was Alexi. He glanced at Antoinette, standing serenely beside him, then at Ramsey. Tension flowed from Ramsey in waves, but he had his fear well in hand. Moonlight gleamed off the cross around his neck. He held a hawthorne stake in one hand, a hammer in the other. A bottle of holy water was tucked into his coat pocket.
Grigori blew out a deep breath.
There was nothing to be said. They would rescue Marisa and kill Alexi, or they would die.
He kissed Antoinette, and then he turned, took hold of the cellar doors, and ripped them off the hinges.
Marisa was lying on the floor at the foot of the stairs. Blood oozed from her cheek, her arm, her leg. The scent inflamed his senses.
"Alexi!"
"I am here, Chiavari."
"Show yourself."
"Come, find me."
"Coward."
"Come, come, Chiavari, play the game."
With a roar, Grigori launched himself down the stairs. Scooping Marisa into his arms, he carried her out of the cellar and thrust her into Ramsey's arms. "Get her out of here! Now!"
He didn't wait for an answer, but flew back into the cellar, his gaze piercing the darkness, his nostrils flaring, his fangs bared.
"I'm here," Alexi said, and before Grigori could locate the voice, Alexi was on him.
Grigori fell back under the other vampyre's onslaught. Alexi had fed recently, and the scent of blood teased Grigori's senses. Alexi clawed at his face and chest, his nails and teeth tearing through skin and flesh and muscle. Rage flowed through Grigori. His fangs lengthened, his own hands became claws, slashing through the air. The sound of Alexi's mocking laughter rang in his ears. The scent of his own blood filled his nostrils.
He felt the vampyre's teeth savage his neck, tearing at his throat. The thought of the vampyre drinking his blood filled him with fury, and he flung Alexi away from him, heard a satisfying thud as the vampyre slammed into the wall. Almost immediately, Alexi was back, his eyes glowing blood-red in the darkness, his lips stained with crimson.
Blood. It was everywhere. Marisa's. His