Sucker Punch (First Fangs Club #3) - Kristen Painter Page 0,51
enough, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Why aren’t you asleep? Why aren’t you affected by the sun like all the rest of them?”
He shot a quick glance at her. “An interesting question from a vampire who should also be asleep in a safe, dark place.”
“A witch’s potion protects me.” The fog seemed to thicken. “You?”
The ground changed beneath her feet. From dirt to wood. She looked down to see they were walking across a bridge that spanned a chasm. As far as she could tell through drifts of mist, there was no discernable bottom. The visual was enough to knot her stomach.
“Inside the gate, I am protected by fae magic. I’ve been here for hours, waiting in the woods for you and your friends.”
She stopped looking at the chasm. “So the fae can be out and about so long as they’re behind the gate? That would have been good information to have had already.”
“My apologies. I thought your dhamfir would have told you that.”
Maybe Rixaline didn’t know. After all, she’d been held prisoner, not left to wander. Then a new thought came to Donna. “Wait. Does that also mean you won’t be able to leave again until dark?”
“You’re very perceptive for a vampire.”
She didn’t know how deep the woods inside the gate were, but after this, he’d be a target. Could he really hide long enough to get to safety? Or had he actually embarked on a suicide mission? That was quite a risk. Whatever his motivation for being there, it was very strong.
Despite the premonition she’d had earlier, something told her his end would not be today.
He glanced over his shoulder at the crew following them. “You turned a Venari to your side? Very impressive. Or is she here as a watcher?”
“A watcher?”
“To make sure things don’t escalate, and if they do…” He slid a finger across his throat.
Was that why Cammie was here? Donna hoped not as she frowned and forced down the temptation to tell Ishalan that Cammie was her sister. Seemed an unnecessary sharing of information. “She’s here to help.”
That was all he needed to know.
They crossed onto stone again as they entered the stronghold. The interior was lit by more torches, the hall before them grandly paneled in wood and accented with copper and bronze and tapestry wall hangings depicting all kinds of scenes. Long wood tables paralleled the walls. Each had a pair of flickering lanterns on it, the light reflected in the finely waxed stone floors. It was beautiful. And empty.
The small hairs on the back of her neck pricked up. But maybe that was because she was in the middle of a fae stronghold now. Possibly the most dangerous place a vampire could be. Behind her, the team formed a small circle. All of them facing out. All of them in battle stance.
They needed to do this and get out. “Which way to the dungeons?”
Ishalan smiled. “Down, of course.”
Chapter Eighteen
If they had to fight on the stairs, they were in trouble. That was Donna’s first thought as they descended the narrow passage that led to the bowels of the stronghold. It was dark and dank and smelled of death. The tinny, sweet odor of decaying blood permeated the air. Even for a vampire, it was an awful stench.
Her stomach roiled at first, finally settling a few moments later. She checked her crew. Except for Cammie, they all looked a little queasy. How used to this sort of thing was Cammie?
The raspy sound of fae voices reached them as they hit a landing.
Ishalan put his hand out, stopping the party in their tracks. Then he held a finger up for them to be quiet. He flattened his palm. He wanted them to stay.
They all nodded. He slipped a hand under his coat and withdrew a short dagger. “You must trust me, Governor.”
They’d come this far. And if he tried anything, the crew behind her would end him. She nodded. “Fine.”
He held his free hand out to her. She took it, wondering what was about to happen. She didn’t have to wait long to find out. He pulled her close, wrapped his arm around her neck, and held the dagger to her throat. “Play along,” he whispered.
Behind her, she could hear the hiss of blades being pulled from their sheaths and soft, muttered curses.
“It’s all right,” she whispered to her team. All while hoping she wasn’t telling them a lie.
“Ready?” Ishalan asked.
“Yes.”
“Good. You take one, I’ll handle the rest.” He started down.