Sabrina Strong Series Collection - Books 5-8 E-Book

Lorelei Bell

• Herausgeber: Next Chapter
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

Books 5-8 in Lorelei Bell's 'Sabrina Strong Series' of urban fantasy novels, now available in one volume!
Crescendo: The dhampire is about to be born, but not through who you'd expect. When Vasyl learns what Sabrina has done, it creates a rift between them. After saving Tremayne and surviving Nicolas' attempt on her life, a group of black witches abduct Sabrina and begin draining her of her powers. She's near death when Dante stops them, and he and Vasyl return her home. With the vampire war raging all around them, the ultimate confontation with Ilona Tremayne will soon be at hand.
Requiem: Bill Gannon is back to protect Sabrina. But when the vindictive demon Naamah enlists a terrible witch in her quest for retribution, Sabrina is in more danger than ever, and the secret behind a mysterious newcomer is revealed. Facing a powerful enemy, can they find a way to save Sabrina before it’s too late?
Interlude: Sabrina's memory loss leaves her struggling to find herself and wishing to return to her home. When a former adversary resurfaces and threatens her, Sabrina's allies rally to her protection. While trying to remember her past, Sabrina has to deal with the perils of the present. Can Sabrina come out unscathed and reclaim herself?
Renegade: Returning to the Dark Veil, Sabrina faces new challenges. Her mission is to find Princess Aljehambra, who has been abducted by one of Drakulya's sons. Once again, Sabrina finds herself in an age where horses and trains are the mode of transportation, and outlaws, vampires and wizards try to stop her at every turn. But true love is waiting in the wings, and Sabrina is determined to find her way - no matter the cost.

Leseprobe

Sabrina Strong Series Collection

BOOKS 5-8

LORELEI BELL

Contents

Crescendo

Acknowledgments

1. én garde

2. War

3. The Never Ending Dance

4. Tunnel at the End of the Light

5. Somewhere Over the Rainbow

6. Going Down

7. You're Fired

8. Lights, Please

9. Blood is the Life

10. Surprise!

11. Throwing Sticks

12. House of Cards

13. Truth or Consequences

14. Cold

15. White-Out

16. Over-night Guests

17. Chance

18. Deception

19. Priory of Sion

20. Good Witch

21. Bad Witch

22. Power

23. The Bait

24. Ultimatum

25. Sacrifice

26. Mayhem

27. Thunder

28. Reprieve

29. Awakened

Requiem

Acknowledgments

Colorado Springs, Colorado

1. Demons

2. Bill

3. Payback

4. Demon's Pleasure

5. Rogue

6. Party

7. Silver Eyes

8. Bill

9. Tom's Hideaway

10. Dawn

11. Visitors

12. Van Helsing, I Presume

13. Forgiven

14. Second in Command

15. City Rats & Street Cats

16. Well, Hell

17. Gremlins

18. Visitation

19. Donor

20. Lemon Meringue

21. Drink and be Merry

22. Emma

23. Sabrina

24. The Edelweiss

25. The Date

26. In The Works

27. The Curio

28. Requiem

29. The Vision

30. May the Chips Fall

31. Fools Rush In

32. To Hell and Back

33. Not Quite Dead

Interlude

Acknowledgments

December 14

1. Baby Steps

2. Strangers & Friends

3. Dante

4. Bill

5. News to Me

6. Visitation

7. Mr. Jangles

8. Gilded Cage

9. Mr. Jangles

10. Old Business

11. Fritz

12. Designer God

13. Devious

14. Home Again

15. Dagger's Return

16. Unbidden Nightmares

17. Leif

18. The Woodbine Factor

19. Memories

20. Vampire Lords and Other Scary Things

21. Jack

22. One Step Back

23. The Harder They Die

24. Return of Jangles

Renegade

I. The Request

1. Night Visitations

2. House Helpers

3. Mr. Jangles

4. Legal Eagle & Evidence

5. Lawbreakers

6. Travel Light

7. New Adventure

II. The Journey

8. The Royals

9. Wizards & Dragons

10. Double Agent

11. The Journey Begins

12. Injuns & Thieves

13. The Calvary

14. Fort Fulton

15. Nightly Visitations

16. Shades of Hell

III. Enter the Hero

17. Elvira

18. Subterfuge

19. Conquest

20. Reality Check

21. Spit Hits the Frying Pan

22. Confessions

23. Wizards & Spirits

24. The Factory

25. The Escape

26. Enter the Werewolf

27. The Return Home

28. A New Life

About the Author

Copyright (C) 2023 Lorelei Bell

Layout design and Copyright (C) 2023 by Next Chapter

Published 2023 by Next Chapter

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author's permission.

Crescendo

SABRINA STRONG BOOK 5

Acknowledgments

Thank-yous go out to Steve Kloff, and Jennifer Weydert for information regarding plasma services

To my husband, Dennis, who allows me to be me!

Chapter1

én garde

The man with shoulder-length, dark blond hair and edgy smile sat motionless in in the shadows, in a wooden bar chair, waiting. No one had really noticed him, but then he had made sure that they would not. Wearing a black suit and silk shirt, his white silk tie almost glowed. Leif Sufferden realized he was a tad over dressed for the rough-neck bar in Batavia where several fist fights broke out on a nightly bases, stabbings were not unheard of, and the police had had the place shut down for various violations in the past. Why, only in the past week someone had been stabbed to death, right here. There had been shootings, too, of course. But, tonight, “Side Winders” happened to be open, and its customers couldn't be happier, unless they were high on something other than liquor and weed.

A smile crimped Leif's lips while he watched the blond woman strut in from the street on four-inch heals into the dank bar. They were blue to match her eyes, not that anyone would notice this little detail, but he did. Their eyes met. He slid his eyes in the direction of the pool table closest to him. She gave him a small nod. Her smile broadened to reveal white teeth. Her fangs hadn't come out as yet. She always did have great control. It was one of the things Leif admired about Darla. Her control. That, and her zeal for violence.

All male eyes in the room were zeroed in on Darla like a heat seeking missile. Who could blame them? Wearing a halter top and the shortest possible micro-mini, her heavily made-up eyes darted across the faces of four men who were playing pool. Conversation around the pool table had come to a halt. She had suddenly become the one and only highlight in their uneventful evening. She boldly eyed them right back. They noted she was by herself. A lone woman who walks into a bar—especially one of this ilk—was just asking for trouble. On top of it, she looked like a hooker. No matter what, it looked like their luck had changed quickly as she twitched her way toward them, her movements more pronounced. Looking hungry, her eyes became more cat-like as she licked her lips, like she might take a big hunk out of one of them.

She stepped around their stilled bulks, wiggled her small ass with exaggeration, smiling and making eye contact with each one as she strutted by, sliding the fingers of one hand across the bumper of the table. Pausing next to the biggest one, she looked him up and down. He had the usual biker tats—a lot of skulls and spiders—and a skull logo displayed on his clothing. His hang-over beer gut gave the impression he did more drinking than anything else. An ugly scar down the left cheek that interrupted the two-week old beard sprouting around his chin and jawline told the story of a guy who had seen a bar fight up close and personal.

“Hullo,” she purred, then licked her rubied lips. “How's the game?”

“Oh, fine,” the large man said. The others pumped their heads, chiming in agreeing noises. “In fact, I think it just got better.” He and the others rumbled with knowing chuckles.

“Mind if I join you?” she asked, her hand sliding up his sausage sized fingers.

“Not at all,” the large one said, motioning toward the table. “Here, you can use my cue stick.” He held it out to her, showing his more gentlemanly side, a wide grin to sell it.

“Thank you.” She took the cue stick from him, holding his gaze for a long ten seconds. She fingered the tip with a red lacquered nail and returned his gaze. “I know just what to do with it, too.”

The men all chuckled as though they were in on the joke.

She propped her ass onto the bumper portion of the pool table, and settled the larger end of the cue stick between her parted legs. The men leered and chuckled at her act.

“Hey! No sitting on the pool table!” the owner cried from the back of the bar.

“Aw, shut the fuck up, Hank. We're just havin' us a little fun here!” shouted the large man. He looked down at the blonde, almost expectantly.

She wiggled a finger in the universal “come closer” signal. He did.

“What's your name?” she asked.

“Stan,” he said. “Stan Baker.”

“Hello, Stan Baker,” she said. “Let's get to know one another.” Putting the cue stick down, she spread her legs further apart.

“Okay, pretty little girl,” he said, moving in front of her, but not yet touching her, while the others looked on, making groaning noises, wishing they were in his spot.

“You want me, don't you, Stan?” she asked.

Stan let out a bark of laughter. “Does a bear shit in the woods?” The men laughed. By now those around the other two pool tables, and some men at the bar had turned around to watch the scene.

“Come here, then. Kiss me,” she said, leaning forward. She puckered up her red lips.

“Alright.” The other men made sounds of encouragement as their large companion placed his hips between her knees. His large hands went around her small waist as he nudged himself between her thighs. Her skirt hiked up so far, he wondered if she had a thong on—or nothing at all. Either way, he was going to score tonight. Her legs wrapped around his large girth while her hands went up his chest. Her fingers twined behind his neck. She didn't flinch from his bad breath, or his over-powering body odor, but allowed him to bring her in for a kiss. His buddies made noises again, nudging one another.

No one noticed the man in the suit, Leif, had risen from his chair in the far corner. Arms folded, he watched with passive interest while the man pressed Darla back onto the pool table. The kiss lasted for more than twenty seconds. He did wonder when Darla would make her move. She liked playing with her food.

Three vampires stepped into the bar, and scanned the room until their eyes met Leif's. He nodded at them, and slid his gaze to where Darla was in a romantic tryst with the large man. The only female in the group cast her light brown eyes to the biker and Darla, then back to Leif. Her name was Kadu Litore, a Jamaican-American. Leif thought she had been one of his better turns. She definitely enjoyed the hunt, now that they were free to hunt humans. She smiled brilliantly, and already her fangs were out. She licked her lush lips in anticipation. Her slightly dusky chocolate skin looked as though it were oiled. Her bare arms and legs didn't agree with the cold weather outside. One would think it was a ninety degree day, but it was only in the twenties with a bitter north wind. That alone should have tipped anyone off what was going on here. But it didn't. Every human was either into the game on the telly, their drink, or looking at the scene at the pool table, unaware that they had been invaded by vampires.

Leif watched Kadu, the only other female vampire, approach the bar. The other two, males, waited for a signal from Leif. Licking their lips as they sized up the rest of the crowd. Their eyes had slid to the bar where the only human women sat drinking.

Four more vampires strode in. They each acknowledged Leif with a slight bow. His hand out, Leif gestured for them to mingle with the crowd in the bar, and choose their warm meals. A crowded bar was something like a smörgåsbord for a vampire. A human's warm blood scent on the air made them lick their lips in anticipation.

Smiling, Leif turned back to check the progress of Darla with the large biker. Suddenly, the biker jerked back from her. Hand going to his face the biker said, “You bit me?” He looked at his hand. There was blood on his face where he'd smeared it.

She chuckled and nodded.

The men around them jeered.

“Oh, so you like it rough, do you?” he said more gruffly.

“Yes. And you had better like it, too,” she said with a little playful snarl, her delicate nose crinkling.

“Oh, I do, darlin'. I do,” he said. His hand went back as if to strike her. It swung down toward her face. In a lightning move, Darla caught his large fist and held it. His eyes became big with surprise that the petite blond could hold him off so easily. Startled, the other men around them shifted, exchanging looks with one another. No one was laughing now.

In a lightning move, she grabbed his hair and yanked his face toward her, smashing his lips against hers. The biker braced himself against the table with both massive hands, but relaxed into it. His sounds of delight suddenly turned to screams, which he couldn't really get out because their lips were clamped together. Dark blood rivered from their locked lips while Darla held the biker's mouth against hers, both hands behind his head, with a grip like a python's. His hands clawed and grasped her hair and pulled, doing everything to disentangle himself from her. He lifted his and her body off the table, trying to free himself, trying to get the scream past their locked lips. She didn't budge, she didn't give an inch.

Leif felt his smile widen and a chuckle bubble up. “Kitten,” he said quietly, but knew she would hear him. “Let the poor bloke go.”

The three companions moved in, about to intervene. Seeing this, Leif shot across the room so fast, he seemed to disappear and reappeared in front of the three with a cue stick braced across his hands pushing them back.

“Tut-tut, gentlemen. The lady is busy at the moment. You can wait your turn,” Leif said with a British accent and cocky smile creasing his handsome face.

The man with long greasy hair, lunged toward him. Leif threw a punch to his face, knocking him back where he fell to the floor. He didn't move again.

“Like I said, wait your turn,” Leif said, with more warning in his voice. He held the other two men in his thrall. They now had no desire to move or do anything. Over his shoulder he said, “C'mon, Darla, luv. We need to party. Let the poor bloke go.”

His muzzle freed, the biker's screams filled the room. People turned to see what the commotion was all about. Suddenly the blonde woman, Darla, pushed the man away with a force that sent him blundering back, arms cartwheeling. Blood bubbling out of his mouth, he bounced off the wall, and fell to the floor, sobbing and uttering incoherently as though he had no tongue.

The woman sat up, and spat a large red piece of meat out of her bloody mouth. She licked her lips, then took a finger and wiped around her mouth to swipe at the blood. She stuck her finger into her mouth and sucked the blood from it. Flopping onto her side on the pool table, she looked down at the biker and said, “What's the matter? Vampire got your tongue?”

“Everyone,” Leif called out, “feed!”

Kadu turned to the man at the pin ball table, grabbed him by the collar, and yanked him backward. Fangs extended, she sunk them into his neck from behind. His surprised scream became one of submission. His knees buckled, and he sank to the floor where she followed him.

The two male vampires at the bar had already put thralls on the women, and now began to feed.

Leif shoved one of the two men left standing toward Darla. She grabbed him and hauled him down on the pool table, arching his back until his throat was exposed. She buried her fangs in his neck.

Leif growled at the last man nearby, he grabbed his arm and drew it up to his mouth. Fangs sank into warm flesh. Crimson ichor pooled into his open mouth, and only now he realized how hungry he was.

The man's arm was suddenly yanked away from his mouth. Leif jerked back and found himself looking up at a tall Native American wearing jeans and a blue jean shirt with a southwest design embroidered into the yoke.

“I don't think you asked if you could take his blood and I'm pretty sure he would have said no,” the Indian said.

“You? You're—”

“Dead? Try Undead.” Dante grabbed a cue stick from the table and twirled it like a propeller before Leif could make his move.

Chapter2

War

I landed into the bar a few seconds behind Dante, using the ley line. The dank bar and the heavy smell of old smoke and beer caught me by surprise, but I didn't let it slow me down. In one sweep I saw vampires everywhere drinking from their hosts, knowing full well they had been attacked. They had no way to resist the vampire's thrall. My hand went to the snaps of my dagger sheath at my thigh. With a flick I let the Dagger of Delphi loose. Like a silver arrow it darted to the nearest vampire, and plunged into its chest. With an inward gasp, the dark-skinned female vampire fell to the floor, her heart poisoned with silver.

A mere two seconds later, the air twanged with another's presence. I turned my head to find red-headed Quist standing over the female vampire which the dagger had dropped. He lunged with the laser wand he held, and ran it across her long neck. Deadly accurate, it severed the female vampire's head cleanly. Within a few seconds, the body began to fleck with decay. Must have been a new turn. Older vampires took longer to decompose.

Dagger of Delphi flew off to the next vampire—a woman with long black hair, hovering over a man at another pinball machine. But it couldn't get to her chest and hovered, waiting. Shit. I grabbed up a cue ball from a nearby pool table and threw it with keen accuracy, hitting her on the shoulder. She snapped her head my direction and pulled back from her human, letting them sink, and then drop to the floor. Her eyes glowed red, her mouth rimmed with blood.

“Look, honey, that's no way to get a date,” I quipped. She turned fully toward me, her grimace terrifying, the bottom half of her face painted in the gore of her feast. She lunged toward me. She didn't get far. The dagger plunged into her chest. Her body buckled instantly.

Once she was down, Quist moved in and lopped off her head with the laser. I couldn't believe it no longer bothered me to see him do this—to watch a head roll away from the shoulders completely detached. Well, as long as they were vampires, it didn't bother me at all.

The Dagger of Delphi went on to the next vampire, and the same sequence was repeated. In the background I heard fighting. I turned to see the flurry of motion. Dante was fighting someone. I knew him. Shoulder-length caramel-colored hair, the handsome cocky look on his face. Leif Sufferden. Exactly who we had been watching, and we'd found him and his cronies in the act of feasting on humans. Not illegal, according to vampire law, but I wasn't about to agree with such behavior. Especially since the two who were now in charge of N.A.V.A.—North American Vampire Association—were my enemies.

I moved forward, but someone grabbed me by the hair and tugged me around. This couldn't be more like being on a roller derby rink.

“OW!” I cried. Shit! That hurt enough to bring tears to my eyes. My head had been pulled back with such violent force, I was momentarily stunned. In the next second I found myself staring up into a vampire's face who I feared almost as much as Leif. My throat exposed oh-so conveniently to her.

“Ohhh, yum,” Darla managed to purr her delight in having caught me in her talons.

“Help!” I cried.

She smiled. “Oh, you can do better than that.” Lips rimmed in crimson, she opened her mouth, and moved in closer toward my neck, her eyes had become black marbles in her head, and her fangs like sharpened white fence posts. All this filled my vision while I worked to resist her. But she had a hold on me, and I couldn't pull my mystic-ring hand around to shove her away.

“Sabrina!” Quist shouted. “Sabrina!”

My spine forced against the rim of the pool table, the pain gave me enough awareness to pull my eyes away from hers. It really pissed me off that Darla was able to catch me off guard like this.

“Let go of my hair you bitch!” I finally slid my right hand out from behind myself and thrust the mystic ring into her face. Darla released my hair and threw me a startled look. I returned a scornful one. While she tried to puzzle out what had happened—how I had managed to thrall her, instead of the other way around—I said, “Take a flying leap!” With a flick of my hand, Darla went flying through the air. She landed, crashing into pool cues in a corner. Her shock wore off quickly as she sprang to her feet, growled, and gnashed her teeth at me.

Then the unexpected dart of silver shot across my sight and jammed into her chest. With a sudden intake of air, she stumbled back, hands flaying, feet going out from underneath her. She fell with a sharp grunt. Downed like a bowling pin. She screeched in pain and tried to pull the dagger out. I'd learned that the dagger, once it had found its target, would not relent. No vampire could pull it from their own chest.

Quist darted toward her with the laser.

“No!” I said to him. He looked sharply to me, a hard frown etched on his freckled face. I drew my hand out. “Dagger of Delphi, return to me,” I beckoned to my weapon. The dagger obediently pulled itself from Darla's chest. At that same moment Dante's dark form drew up on the other side of me. He threw something that twirled through the air and stuck into Leif. He dropped to the floor only three feet from us, a broken cue stick embedded in his chest. He was still alive, but struggling to pull it free.

“You bitch!” Leif hissed, voice rough.

“I want them to go back to her,” I said to Dante and Quist. “In whatever condition. Let Ilona know we're watching them and we're willing to stop them.”

Distant sirens wailed. Police and other first responders. They'd be here in two minutes.

“We have to leave,” Dante said. I looked around the bar. Humans who were still able to stand, staggered around, bleeding from the vampire bites. Gasps, moans, and expletives as the vampire thrall no longer affected them. They eyed us fearfully. As fearful of us as they were of the vampires. There was no time to alter their memories.

The vampires who were still alive, misted out of existence, one by one, like the cowards they really are.

Leif pulled the make-shift stake out of his chest and threw it to the floor. He looked up at me, murder in his eyes, and a bloody hole in his chest. “I'll get you for this, you bitch!”

I wasn't daunted by his vulgar language, and said, “Give a message to Ilona. If she doesn't rescind the Hunting Human Law, she'll be next.” By this time my body was shaking from the adrenaline pouring through me.

“I'll get you for this, bitch.” Leif hobbled over to Darla, his Life-time mate, clutched her by the middle and vanished.

I grabbed Dante's and Quist's hand. We locked onto the ley line and were gone.

Chapter3

The Never Ending Dance

I opened the quart jar of stewed tomatoes and poured them into the pot of soup and watched the chunks of tomatoes swim around the heavy cast iron pot while stirring it. The memory of when Constance and I had taken our harvest of tomatoes in our respective gardens and had canned them—forty-eight quarts—interrupted all other pressing thoughts. I was able to step back in time when none of this had been my reality—way before I had begun thinking about getting a job, and vampire was not in my vocabulary. We had divided the quarts up equally. I actually didn't think I would use twenty-four jars of tomatoes because my father had died a few months ago, and I was living alone. But tonight I had a house full of men. Not all would be eating my beef soup, but a few of them were humans who were hungry and would greatly appreciate my cooking, such as it was.

Quist and Fritz's voices filtered out to me over Christmas tunes playing on the CD player in the corner. I smiled. It was good to hear human voices joking and carousing in this house again. I'd missed it terribly.

Earlier, we didn't do any hi-fives when we returned to my house, about two hours ago. Some of the people in that bar had been hurt bad by the vampires. I wasn't at all sure how the big biker guy would be, whose tongue was bitten off by Darla. Dante had informed me moments after we'd returned that he'd stayed with them—invisible—to see the aftermath. As our spy, Dante was more than just useful, he was necessary to our survival. He was the eyes needed to find vampire nests, or attacks when they happened, or know what they were cooking up and the enemy had no idea how we did it. Being an Undead was handy in that way, I suppose.

“Sabrina?” Fritz called.

“What?” I called back, returning the heavy lid to the pot of soup.

“Come and see the tree. We're going to light it up.”

“Okay.” I reduced the flames under my pot of soup and stepped into the living room where they had re-arranged the furniture. Vasyl appeared as if out of nowhere. His hand went around my waist as I joined the others in the living room. Hobart stood next to the wall, hand on the light switch.

Fritz was on his knees with the plug end of the Christmas lights, ready to plug it in to the socket. I stifled a chuckle as some bit of tinsel had clung to his nappy black hair and, filled with static, moved with his motions around the tree. It looked like a metallic worm doing a strange dance on his head.

“Ready?” Quist said, near a lamp, looking at both Fritz and Hobart.

“Ready!” They called out.

“Lights please.”

The lights went out, and suddenly the Christmas tree was lit up. He had used an amazing color arrangement of green, red, and purple that gave the tree a dark, haunting look.

We all gasped appreciatively.

“Oh, I forgot,” Fritz said and suddenly, a white strand of lights sprinkled in with the mix went on.

“Oh! Beautiful!” I gasped.

“It is tradition, no?” Vasyl said, gesturing toward the tree.

“Yes,” I said.

“OMG!” Fritz cried. “He's never seen a Christmas tree before?”

“No. I have not,” Vasyl said.

“Where do you live? In a barn?” Fritz asked.

“Oui. It is a very comfortable barn,” Vasyl defended, his lips making that French quirky thing, which I found sexy.

Quist and Fritz exchanged glances. They had come into my life only a few weeks ago, but I felt as though I'd known them all my life. Quist was part elf, and had a daring side I hadn't known of until tonight. His wanting to come with us to “kill vampires”, had unsettled me slightly. His father had invented the laser wand. What Quist used was the older version to behead vampires and demons.

Fritz didn't do any sort of fighting, but he loved to decorate. Both he and Quist had brought a dozen brightly gift wrapped presents to go beneath the tree. Hobart had cut the tree from a local tree farm and brought over to my house this afternoon. A werewolf, he had become my guardian in the past few months after seeking my help in locating one of his own members who wound up shooting himself after stealing the werewolf gang's money.

“Only now he lives here,” I said, in answer to Fritz' question, smoothing my hand over my husband's arm. Vasyl leaned toward me, our lips met in a quick kiss, and I got tingles up my spine.

Embarrassed, I turned back into the room and felt that odd sensation that told me someone else had arrived. At the same time, Vasyl's body stiffened, and he moved in front of me as a barrier.

Stepping out of the gloom of the dining room, a dark shadow with long, black hair appeared, and at once, began speaking as though he'd been here the whole time.

“The humans have been taken by ambulance to a nearby hospital,” Dante reported, strolling into the living room. He stopped and looked around. “Why are all the lights off?”

I gestured to the Christmas tree.

“Oh,” he said, glancing at it. “Nice.”

“Someone get the lights, please,” I said.

Quist was closest to the lamp, and turned it on. The room became a little brighter. Fritz rose and turned on another lamp.

“What about their memories? Were they wiped?” I asked.

“The elves worked as quickly as they could, then vanished before the paramedics arrived.”

I turned to Quist. His blue gaze met mine. “It doesn't take them long to wipe memories, and give them new ones,” he informed.

“Good,” I said, my glance falling onto the dark TV. I could imagine what the evening news would reveal about what happened to a dozen people in a bar in Batavia. I wasn't sure how they would explain the guy with the bitten-off tongue, though. I shivered as nausea hit me at the memory of all the blood I had seen, and the thought of loosing a tongue by having it bitten off by a vampire—or anyone for that matter. I shivered, making a disgusted sound. Vasyl's arm went around me.

“There's something else I must speak to you about,” Dante said, looking directly at me.

I waited. His gray eyes glanced over the others in the room. His hair was arranged in a loose braid, fastened with a leather thong at the end. He had been my lover when he was alive. After dying, and still in love with me, he was able to return as an Undead a few weeks ago to rescue me from the vampires of a planet called The Black Veil. He's been with me ever since—but at a respectable distance.

“What is it?” I prompted.

“It is a private matter,” he said, eyes darting from me to Vasyl and back again.

“Sacreblu,” Vasyl said. “There are no secrets between us.” And, as if to reinforce that statement, he kissed the top of my head and readjusted his hold on me. There, see? I own her.

Men.

I rolled my eyes. “Okay,” I said and pulled away from Vasyl's python grasp. “I'm going to go into the next room,” I told Vasyl, stepping away. “I'll see what he wants, and I'll be back.”

“Leave the door open,” Vasyl said. He would not trust me alone with Dante, for maybe the next fifty years.

Dante followed me. I stopped and turned. “Fritz, could you go ahead and serve up the soup? I know you guys are hungry.”

“No problem, Sabrina,” Fritz said, and happily he, Hobart, and Quist headed for the kitchen.

Closed off by two French doors, the den had once been what was called a parlor of my circa 1910 farm house. I presumed it was where people sat and visited, back in the day. There was a fireplace in there, too, and on crisp winter nights like these, when the wind was out of the northwest, a fire would help keep the house warmer. I had not thought of getting a fire going, as I'd been a tad busy.

Dante headed into the room before me. I stepped in ten seconds after and found him before the fireplace. A fire ignited like magic. He was a shaman when alive, but also Undeads had a lot of magic at their disposal.

“Wow. I didn't know you could do that,” I said, looking at him in surprise.

He turned back to me. “My powers are coming alive in me, more and more. Those powers that I would have had, eventually, had I lived long enough as a shaman.”

“So I see,” I said, moving toward the now blazing fireplace. I held my hands toward the warm flames. The room's chill made it feel as though the front door was standing wide open. “The fire will warm this room up. Brrrr.”

“I no longer feel cold, heat, pain…”

“But isn't that to be expected?” I said. Dante was always able to shield my Knowing. Now that he was an Undead, all the better his tricks to keep me from reading him. I couldn't read any vampire. Humans were easy. I was not only a touch clairvoyant, I was also the sibyl with my own bag of tricks.

Dante's smile tipped his lips. “It takes a little getting used to.”

“What's so private you wanted to tell me?”

“It isn't that I wanted to tell you something private as to get you away from the others so that we may speak.” He shifted on his feet and faced me. “Vasyl would have made his usual insults and I wouldn't have been able to get a word out,” He finished.

“Okay.” He was right about that.

His hands landed on my shoulders and he looked into my eyes. “You cannot allow your brother and his wife to remain outside of your loop any longer. It's dangerous for them to not know about the vampires.”

Ashamed, my gaze fell. “I don't know how to break it to them.” I looked up into his intelligent face, gazed into magnetic gray eyes. “How do I tell them that vampires exist, and that one lives in my house? That I'm married to him. This is beyond their belief system.”

“You must find a way to make them believe. Time is working against you. I've told you what Ilona plans. Don't lull yourself into believing she would leave the rest of your family alone. Especially after tonight. You've dropped the gauntlet with what we've just done. There's no way a vampire is not going to answer to a challenge like that.”

“I have been thinking about it. But I don't know how to explain things to them.”

“You need to tell them about the vampires, even if you can't tell them who, or what you are right now. You need to warn them, educate them about the possibility that they could become targets.”

“Tell them to carry around crucifixes and stay indoors at night, lock their doors and don't open it to anyone? I don't see that I have that sort of power to convince them.”

“Introduce Vasyl to them. No matter what, you must introduce him to them, anyway.”

“Randy will need more than telling. He'll need to be shown.”

“Then, have Vasyl do something to convince them. I'm sure he'll think of something.”

“What? Have Vasyl bite some animal? That would horrify them!”

“No, there are other things Vasyl can do. He can disappear, or change into something, like an animal or a bird.”

“Or show them his wings.” My head sagged. Dante brought my chin up with a finger.

“Their lives are at stake. All of them. Ilona will not stop at your brother and his wife. I've heard that she has fed on, and turned children in the past.”

My eyes went wide, a loud intake of air filled my lungs until I let it ease out. I thought of Jana and Tera, my little nieces. I couldn't imagine how their minds would cope with the horrible things a vampire could do to them, or their parents.

“You're right, of course. I don't want to scare their girls.”

“Have them come over by themselves, your brother and sister-in-law. They can find someone to babysit for a few minutes. Tell them this is a life or death situation and you need to speak with them.”

“You should babysit them,” I suggested, smiling.

“I'd love to, and not as a dog this time.” We both chuckled.

“I'll think of something.” There was a pause in our conversation. He seemed morose. “Are you okay? Do you need to—um—feed?”

He smiled, his hands ran slowly up and down my arms. “I've fed, if that's what you're asking.”

“Just now?” My face suddenly warmed and I couldn't look back up at him.

“Believe it or not, vampires still have souls. I fed on those we killed.”

“Oh!” I grimaced, now embarrassed even more. I didn't like the idea that Dante could feed on souls of anything that died in his presence. He also fed through sex. Somehow. He had to feed in order to become, or remain a physical being. I didn't know which bothered me more. He would have had to find a donor to have sex with, somewhere. He told me one was Cilia Kline, one of the blood dolls for Lonny Pennyweather. He could be there in a blink, although she was all the way in Colorado Springs.

“You have visitors,” he said, kissing my hands quickly. “I must go. If you need me, I will be here.” He turned away, and disappeared, as if he went through an invisible door. The sudden change in the atmosphere made me blink, and a few strands of my hair was displaced by a small breeze. The aroma of his pine-scent, suddenly gone, made me sad.

“SABRINA!” The shout came from the other room from both Quist and Fritz. “Someone is here!”

Making a disparaging sound, “—Crap—” I turned and headed back into the living room, and closed the French door. It would be a while before the fire would warm that room up enough.

“Who—” I began but was cut across.

“OMG!” Fritz cried, peeking out the window in the door. “Is that a stretch Humvee?”

He and Quist were both looking out the window next to the door. Vasyl was looking out the picture window, pushing aside the drapes.

“Crap. Is that the brother?” Quist asked.

“Whose brother?” I asked, clueless.

“I shall find out,” Vasyl said, and vanished.

I bent to look out the nearest window. Vasyl reappeared outside in the snow. The black vehicle in my drive certainly was a huge, stretch Humvee. It looked mean, and capable of conquering the drifting snow outside with those huge snow tires and high clearance. This could only have been sent from Tremayne's garage. No one else I knew had the money for such a vehicle. And my enemies would not announce themselves quite so lavishly.

Quist and Fritz stood back from the door when it opened. Vasyl entered first. Snow covered his bare feet and half-way up his pant legs. I hadn't been around to remove the snow on the steps or in the drive. In fact none of us had been. We were basically snowed in, but for the fact that Quist and I could travel ley lines and take whoever with us worked well enough for the past few days and nights.

Behind Vasyl a vampire strode in whose face resembled his twin brother's, Leif. For the initial two seconds of his entrance it made my heart kick with fear. But, I knew instinctively it was Heath, and calmed myself. He wore a black suit jacket over a black crew-neck sweater. A red button pinned to his lapel with white lettering read, “GOT BLOOD?” I had to give that pause, too. Vampire humor.

“Heath? What brings you out here? Is everything okay?” I asked.

“I'm to give you this,” he said, reaching into his coat pocket and producing an envelope. It was exquisite thick parchment, with a red wax seal on it. Well, well…

I took the envelope, glancing at him, unsure. Vasyl stood behind me looking over my shoulder.

“Open it, Sabrina. That seal is Tremayne's, you'll notice, and no one has trifled with it,” Heath assured.

I stepped into the living room with everyone traveling along with me like they were all on leashes. I turned on another light near the desk, noticing that my name was scribbled on the front of the envelope in shaky handwriting.

Upon opening it, I found a page of matching parchment inside, folded thrice. I opened it and tried to read the scribblings. The lettering was wiggly, and some words collided with those on the next line. Some lines slanted up, some down. It was as if a child on a bumpy carnival ride had written it. I looked up at Heath.

“Is this from Tremayne?” I asked. “'Coz I can't tell.”

“Please, won't you read it, first, Sabrina?”

I glanced back at the letter and then had to squint and struggled to read the lines and words. I had to re-read some of it over a few times.

Dear Sabrina,

By the time you have possession of this letter, I will be a few hours further into my eventual death.

Unless you come to me, as I have made plans for you, I will be dead, I am told I may have only twenty-four to forty-eight hours left.

Please, come help me

I beseech you, as a friend,

Tremayne

My eyes were burning with tears and my stomach tightened in a sickening knot as I read and understood his scribblings. His scrawled signature at the end flew off the page. I felt the letter's urgency, and knew I must do something to un-do what had been done to him.

I looked up at Heath. “What should I do?” I said, tears filling my eyes. “How do I get to him?”

“You're to come with me,” Heath said. “He really needs you. No one else can save him.”

“No!” Vasyl stepped between myself and Heath, him being much larger, and so menacing even I stepped back from him, fearing he might unsheathe his wings. “She does not have to go anywhere! She stays!”

Coming to my senses, I ran around to get between the two vampires. “Vasyl! Stop!” I said, palms out. I hoped that he would not put Heath out on his ear, because it certainly looked like he was ready to. Eyes larger than normal, which looked scary, Vasyl's body shook as though holding himself back like a vicious dog behind a fence. His lips were pulled back in a snarl.

“It's partially my fault that Tremayne is dying,” I explained, my voice harsh. Actually, it was because my dagger had poisoned his blood, but Dante was the one who had wielded it and plunged it into his chest. None of us knew that at the time when it happened. As a matter of fact, I hadn't told anyone else about this, so Tremayne didn't know that Dante had been behind it. He simply assumed that the dagger was acting in my defense against a vampire. I felt it was moot at this point. I'd given him my blood right afterwards, which was nearly two weeks ago. Last I'd heard he was doing fine. Apparently things had taken a turn for the worse.

I pushed, but Vasyl wouldn't budge. Heath stepped back and regarded me. His puppy-dog brown eyes looking hopeful.

I turned to Vasyl. “If Tremayne dies Nicolas will take over. Do you want that?” I turned back to Heath. “Where is he? Tremayne?”

“That I'm not privileged to know. What I do know is that I'm to take you to the airport and from there you will be taken to Tremayne.”

“Should I pack? Change? Do I have time to eat? Will there be food on the flight?” my questions came rapidly out of my mouth. I already had a vision of a small jet. The runway looked like it was out in the boonies, not in the city.

“No. You don't have time to do any of that. You will not be there that long, I don't think, so you don't need to pack.”

My stomach growled. I was looking forward to my homemade soup. Oh, well.

“Okay,” I said. “I'll get my boots on and my coat.” I turned. My vampire husband stood like a wall in my path.

“Sabrina, why are you going to him? Every time you do, your life is threatened. If you never went to him to begin with, you would not be in as much trouble as you are,” Vasyl said.

“And he'd probably be alive and well, and not at death's doorstep,” I argued.

He spun away, sputtering. “I do not understand this relationship you have with Tremayne. Why do you trouble yourself so?”

“I don't know,” I said, moving around him to grab my coat off the hook. “It's like he and I are locked into this survival struggle. I can't survive as a sibyl without him, and he won't survive the night if I don't give him my blood, or whatever else he needs right now.” I pulled on my snow boots over my blue jean-clad legs and zipped them up.

Vasyl's hands went up in surrender, spouting excited French.

“It's like some strange dance of life and death, and the song just never ends,” I went on, more or less ignoring Vasyl as he kept muttering and walking in circles, hands flying up every other step. I'd never been able to put it quite so simply until now. The funny thing was, it was true, and I knew Tremayne needed me right now more than I needed him. I couldn't refuse to help anyone in need of my services. Not even a vampire magnate, who was also my boss, who had a craving for my blood because it gave him a high like no human blood could. Such is my life.

Chapter4

Tunnel at the End of the Light

The stretch Humvee's growl filled my ears as I stepped up and ducked inside. The warmth circulated the back compartment making it nice and toasty. Lots of room for a party of eight or ten. The lighting was a weird phosphorous purple, the seat covers done in zebra stripes. No vampire mogul should go without such a party bus. All the better it being a large all-terrain vehicle to drive all the way out to the boonies to my house to pick me up in the middle of a snow storm. Peering at the surround zebra striped bench seats, I chose a spot and sank into them and inhaled the new-car smells. Between the seats, in the center was some sort of black console. I realized it was a combination bar and refrigerator.

Heath ducked inside and sat on the opposite side. I could not look at him without thinking of his brother who I'd encountered only a few hours ago. If Tremayne, who was an old-as-dirt vampire, was gradually dying from the silver blade of the Dagger of Delphi, then surely, it would not take long for death to come to a minion like Darla.

“To the airport.” Heath spoke to the driver over a phone hand set. He replaced it in a compartment and closed it.

“Which airport? Aurora? Or…” I asked, my Knowing telling me precisely where at the same time he said it.

“DuKane,” he said.

Although not surprised, I nodded politely. I'd had the good sense to grab my purse. As always, my purse had my other weapons of choice, like vials of holy water, and my favorite squirt gun loaded with the same—which had saved my ass a half dozen times, now. I was forbidden to bring the dagger, for obvious reasons, but really, he didn't need to tell me like I was a total idiot.

It would be a long, fifteen minute drive to DuKane if I didn't find something to make conversation with Heath. He was the quiet brother. There were times when I wasn't aware of his presence when he was the only vampire around. Unless, of course, Jeanie was with him. But, she wasn't always in his company.

“Where's Jeanie tonight?” I wondered. Jeanie had been my best friend growing up. She had been abducted by Steve Pumphry, and Ilona Tremayne, and nearly drained of blood. I had to act quickly after we saved her from the rogue vampire house. I'd made the decision to have them turn her. A little guilt still welled within me over this decision even now. Would I never get over this?

“She's with her pod tonight. She's having… issues.” A “pod” was a small group of newly turned vampires. They stayed together, much like chicks in a nest—bad analogy, but it was the best I could think of.

“Oh, again?” I said. I wasn't going to touch that. Issues for a newly turned vampire could be anything from reverting back to a wild state of vampirism, where they wanted to kill anything with warm blood in it, to feeling depressed over being turned into a vampire and missing their human life. Neither one I would be able to handle or discuss with any authority.

“She's having a celebration of sorts. It's a vampire thing,” he went on. “She's officially one month old.”

“Oh, I'm sorry. You want to be with her, of course,” I said, twisting the fingers of my gloves.

“I will be. When I deliver you, I will return to the party.”

Party? Did he know what I did to his brother? I wasn't sure, and I really did not want to ask. He was a twin. Twins had that uncanny way of knowing when the other was in trouble, or hurt, or whatever. It was probably a good thing that neither were each other's maker. They had been turned back in the '60's, separately by females at a party somewhere in England where they were originally from.

The Humvee turned off the gravel onto a paved road. I gazed out the window to see distant lights of DuKane.

I tried to think of some safe subject to talk about. Everything that came to me I had to discard. He wouldn't know about the state of Tremayne Towers, which were in Ilona and Nicolas' control at the moment. Those two were undoubtedly waiting for Tremayne's death in order to take full control of it, and the Eastern half of the North American Vampire Association. If that happened, my world would be turned up-side down. I couldn't fight thousands of vampires. The few I fought tonight had made me a nervous wreck as it was. I still was not able to do this vampire slaying thing and be comfortable about it. Although the dagger did all the actual dirty work.

“I've never seen the airport here,” Heath said. I looked over at him. “I've actually never paid attention. Where is it?”

“Oh, it's up this road we're turning on to.” The Humvee made a turn onto the road that arched over I-88, and into the outskirts of DuKane. The road continued north, connecting other major highways.

“We should be there in five or so,” I said and was interrupted by a cell phone's ring.

Heath pulled out his phone. I should have been able to “know” who it was, if they were human. But, since I couldn't get a read, I knew it was either a vampire, or some other magical creature.

“Hello? Yes, we should be there in a matter of five minutes,” Heath said. “That's right. Which terminal?… Oh, I see. Right, then. See you in a bit.” He ended his phone conversation and put away his cell phone. We sat at a light, waiting.

“So, you have no idea where they're taking me?” I asked.

“No. I was told to deliver that letter to you, which I did. And then I was to continue to escort you to this airport.”

The light changed and the Humvee moved forward. I clutched my purse. If I didn't trust Heath as much as I did, I'd swear it was a trap. I'd been herded into traps for the past month or more. But the letter was from Tremayne's own hands, albeit trembling ones. He needed my help. Possibly I was to donate the rest of my blood to him so he could live. That morbid idea floated into my head and I pushed it right out.

We were nearly there. I pointed out over Heath's shoulder. “There's the airport.” As I said this a helicopter sank onto the tarmac, which we looked down upon from the bridge that crossed over the train tracks nearby. Blue lights ran along both sides of the runway. Hangers were arranged on one side, farm fields on the other.

Heath turned and looked. “Ah, I see it.”

In two minutes we were pulling up a drive toward a hangar where the lights of a small jet glowed. A Lier jet, now that I saw it up close.

“Well, this is where I leave you?” I asked.

“Yes,” Heath said. “I wish you luck, Sabrina.”

I pulled my purse close to myself, thinking I should shake his hand, but humans didn't shake hands with a vampire if they knew better. “Thank you,” I said. “Say hi and—uh—happy… uh, whatever to Jeanie for me.”

“I will.”

The driver came around and opened the door of the Humvee. I stepped out onto a cleared off pavement and I strode toward the awaiting jet.

“Sabrina?”

I turned back to see Heath hanging slightly out of the door of the vehicle. “I want you to know that if—if things don't go well, I won't hold anything against you. Really. I'll always be your friend.”

Tightness closed my throat. I couldn't fathom any vampire saying this to me. Heath's friendship was unwavering. Unable to respond because of emotional over-load, I smiled and waved. A twinge in my nose made me rub at it. I wondered as to whether or not I would ever see Heath again, and under what circumstances. Oddly enough, my visions had not come to me, per usual.

I strode the short distance and climbed the steps of the Lier Jet where the pilot stood. I determined he was quite human.

“Good evening, Ms. Strong,” the pilot greeted me. I suddenly felt as though I were in a spy movie, and I was about to meet 007. This was not the normal thing for me to do—jump in a Humvee, and be taken to a small jet to be flown to places unknown in the dark of night.

I smiled at him. “Hi.” Bitter wind whipped at us, cutting off any more niceties, and my wild imaginings of spies or thoughts of having a chat with Daniel Craig, or Timothy Dalton—or my favorite James Bond actor, Pierce Brosnan.

The pilot moved away from the door and I stepped inside the warmth of the luxury jet. He shut the door behind himself and I heard it lock with a slight vacuum seal sound. I was standing in a small seating area that looked more like someone's living room done in white, tans and browns with a little pale green leafy patterns thrown in for color. The pilot continued through to the other end and through another door, which he closed.

The fact a vampire was on the plane nearly shocked me and I had to struggle to keep a poker face. A handsome man with a bad-boy's growth of beard and blue-black hair in a business cut occupied one of the sofas. If I continued with my day dream, I'd have to say he was the most handsome Bond I'd ever seen. He stood and smiled. Teeth showing, but no fangs—thank goodness! Oh, yes. He was a vampire.

“Ms. Strong. Nice of you to join us,” he greeted me in a nice, deep voice.

He had dangerous blue eyes. Dangerous because they were magnetic, and especially on such a magnificent looking man. I knew a powerful vampire when I met one, and he was definitely powerful.

“My name is Stefan Capella. I'm to escort you to your final destination.” His lips moved sensually. The lower lip sort of dipped down to one side, flashing his teeth as he spoke. He made a slight bow with his head. Again I would not shake his hand. That would be dangerous for me in a half dozen ways.

“Thank you.” Wonderful. Another Steve. However, aside from his name, he didn't resemble Steve Pumphry at all. Stefan wore a black suit over a black button-down shirt, and he wore it well, believe me. The orchid tie was the only color on him. Suave features, olive complexion, black hair, plus the name, told me he was Italian, and he oozed vampire pheromones. Luckily for me, the gloves I wore had open mesh over the mystic ring. It was the only pair I owned. I'd asked Constance to help me make them, and they turned out so well that she offered to make me more pairs. I may have to check on the status of them when I get back. In the back of my darting mind I figured it would give me the opening I needed to talk to her.

“Have a seat here,” Stefan said, motioning to a set of six—three abreast—unoccupied seats facing forward. They looked more like airline seats, but more plush, equipped with seat belts.

“We'll be taking off momentarily.” The windows were small and round, tinted dark—a vampire's jet.

I sank into one of the seats, and pulled on the lap belt. Stefan settled into the one next to me. I did not like being this close to him. A distinctive whine of jet engines, and a tone sounded inside, as a light came on above that said FASTEN STEAT BELTS. Stefan smiled down at me. This was going to be a long flight if I had to keep my eyes off of him. I glanced away. He was trying terribly hard to hit me with his vampire thrall, but he was striking out, and I think his ego was a little bruised.

The jet engines wound up higher and it begin to taxi onto a runway. Out the darkened windows muted lights blinked past my vision.

“Have you flown before?” Steve asked.

“Lots of times,” I said. “My father flew.” Only not a Lier jet.

“I see. Good.” He smiled a relaxed sort of smile that creased his cheeks.

“Where are we going?”

“I'm not at liberty to tell you that.”

“Ah. I see. This is a top secret place?”

“Actually, yes. It is.” Yep. James Bond had nothing on me.

The jet's motion sped up. I waited for that familiar feeling of when we left the ground. My stomach had that lurching, butterfly feeling. I had always thought it was fun to fly.

“I was told I'm going to see Tremayne. I'm to help him.”

“Yes. That's correct,” Stefan said.

“Must be really secret,” I said. “I'm taken to a small airport and whisked off.”

“We can't take any chances. This was plan B.”

“Plan B? What happened to Plan A?”

“We had to abort it. This was the best scenario so that no one would figure out where we were heading. Each of us only knowing our part in it, and nothing more. In fact, only the pilot knows where we are headed. I haven't a clue.” He smiled, steepling his fingers under his chin. I had been watching his mouth again. At first the movement of his mouth seemed weird, but then as I stared at it I found that the way he moved while talking was mesmerizing. Almost to the point of hypnotizing. I realized in a few short moments that using his lips in combination with those deep blue eyes, he was able to capture and hold an intended victim's eyes.

“Wow. I feel like I'm in a double-oh-seven movie,” I said, looking around. I couldn't help it. I did feel like I were in the middle of a Bond movie.

He chuckled and leaned slightly as if to impart some secret. “I have been compared to James Bond in my time.”

“You do have a certain Pierce Brosnan look to you,” I quipped. He liked that and smiled. Okay, ego check here. “How is it I've never met you before this?”

“I'm actually from New York. I've been called up to take care of Mr. Tremayne's needs out this way.”

“And I'm on your to-do list?” The jet banked a hard left. My clairvoyant abilities would eventually kick in and I would know where I was heading. West…

“You're the only thing on my to-do list for tonight,” he said and winked.

“I feel so special,” I said as a chill ran up my arms. Shit. I was looking at his lips again.

He chuckled politely as he pulled out his cell phone.