Jeanne Stein - Retribution

A heartbeat goes by before he answers. Does that make a difference in your decision to help her?

No. I get to work.

I pull off Sophie’s boots, strip her of her bloody clothes and let everything fall to the floor. I cover her lower body with a blanket. Ready myself.

I need the vampire. It isn’t hard to summon her. Blood from the reopened wound does it. I don’t need fangs to open a vein, just position myself over her body and let instinct take over.

I suck at the wound, beginning near her neck, gently at first, letting the smell and taste of Sophie’s blood send those first shivers of delight through me. But this isn’t arterial blood, I don’t sense the pulse beat beneath my tongue. At first, it doesn’t feel as if it will be enough. The beast awakens, demanding more.

I force it back, make it content to lap at what blood it can get, concentrate on healing rather than feeding.

Gradually, it happens. Sophie’s skin responds, mending itself over the cut too shallow to have injured organ or muscle. I trail my mouth down the length of her body and up again, feeling the skin knit itself together. Feeling Deveraux beneath her skin. Feeling his pain lessen with the healing. Her blood is sweet. Too soon for the vampire, it’s done.

ONE HOUR LATER, SOPHIE IS WIDE-AWAKE, SITTING up in bed, dressed in a pair of my sweats. She’s showered and pulled her freshly washed hair back into a ponytail. She looks about fifteen. I have to keep reminding myself that she’s not the helpless young girl she appears to be.

Every few minutes, her hands go to her midsection and she winces, as if reliving Williams’ attack.

“You’re all right,” I reassure her. “You are completely healed and Williams can’t hurt you anymore.”

“He was so angry.”

She says it as if she still can’t believe what he did to her. She’s calm, maybe too calm. Is she in shock?

I wish I could think of something to rationalize or explain Williams’ action. Something to rationalize or explain what I’m about to do.

I sit on the edge of the bed, take one of her hands, rub it between my own. A simple human act of comfort usually denied me. The infusion of her blood heated my skin so my touch isn’t corpse cold.

“Sophie, Williams is sick with grief. It doesn’t excuse the way he hurt you, but I understand why he did it.”

Something in my tone brings Deveraux to the surface.

Uh-oh, he says, what are you going to do?

Sophie is looking at me, her eyes wide. “You’re going after my sister, aren’t you?”

“I don’t expect you to understand. Belinda is nothing like you. She set out to murder innocent women. She used some kind of magic to create a species of vampire whose sole purpose was to provide blood for her cream. She swore to kill my friends because I interfered with her plans. You were brave to come here and help us stop her. But it isn’t enough. I have to finish it.”

I wait for her reaction, expecting her to argue in Belinda’s defense. Instead, she pulls her hand free of mine and intertwines her fingers, squeezing until her knuckles turn white.

“How will you find her?”

She doesn’t know about the blood Williams collected. I don’t want to tell her about it. “Do you have any ideas?”

It’s unfair—asking Sophie to help me locate her sister so I can kill her. I backtrack. “I think there’s a way. The same witches who helped me locate her before think they can locate her now.”

Her expression reflects grave concern. “It would be dangerous, Anna. Belinda’s magic may have been rendered ineffective here, but she’s still powerful. You would be risking your life and for what? She won ’t be capable of hurting anyone again for a long time. Isn’t that good enough?”

I wish I could say it was. But I think of Williams and how the depth of his grief drove him to attack Sophie. He and I have our differences, but he’s not a monster.

Sophie watches my face, reads what she sees reflected there. “You need to think this through carefully, Anna. I don’t know what you’ll be facing. Belinda may be in her physical body—without glamour. An old woman. Could you kill her in cold blood? Are you capable of killing a helpless old woman?”

Deveraux pipes up. You couldn’t even kill Williams when you had the chance. And you should have. He’s still on the loose, too.

Sophie takes my hand again. “Deveraux is right. Williams was going to kill me. In a way, he’s as dangerous as my sister. He is not your friend, Anna. You should be aware of that. He harbors great resentment toward you. Deveraux saw it. It ’s why he didn’t make his presence known to him. He doesn’t trust him. You shouldn’t, either.”

She is not telling me anything I haven’t told myself. But it’s not Williams that concerns me right now. It’s Burke.

“Williams and I have had our differences. I know there will come a time when he and I will be forced to confront them. But at this moment, Williams is no threat. He was hurt today. Worse than you. He’ll need time to heal.”

She stirs and I anticipate her next words. I hold up a hand. “I know what you’re going to say. That Burke is hurt, too, and no threat. It’s different with Williams. I know his strengths and weaknesses. I know how to fight him. Burke showed me she could take away all my power. That she could hurt my friends and there wasn’t a damned thing I could do about it. I can’t let that go, Sophie. Not even for you.

I’m sorry.”

I pull back my hand, stand up. “I want you to stay here tonight. If you are serious about caring for the girls from the warehouse, I’ll take you to them and fly you all back to Denver tomorrow morning.”

Sophie studies my face, gauging, I suppose, if there is a chance she can talk me out of going after her sister. I wait for Deveraux to pop up with an argument of his own, too, but none is forthcoming.

After a long moment, Sophie sighs. “I think that will be best. I’ll feel safer once I’m home. I have protection spells to put in place. And Deveraux will sense Williams if he tries to come after me.”

We’ll be fine once we’re back at the mansion, Deveraux adds. I still have contacts in the vampire community. Sophie will be well protected.

It’s decided. I leave Sophie then, go back downstairs, make sure the doors and windows are secure. I believe what I told Sophie, that Williams has been hurt too badly to be a threat. But why take a chance?

Especially since I’ll be slipping away as soon as I know she is asleep.

WHEN I PEEK IN ON SOPHIE A HALF HOUR LATER, she’s fast asleep. I wonder if Deveraux is, too, or if he stands as a kind of subliminal watchdog, ready to rouse her if he senses danger. I don’t probe, though. I don’t want him to know I’m leaving. Besides, the only person I can think of who wishes Sophie harm, Williams, could not have recovered this quickly from such a grievous wound. She’ll be safe until I return.

And if I don’t return?

I close the door softly leaving Sophie and that question behind.

Then I run downstairs and out to the garage. I’d already called ahead and arranged for the witches to meet me at park headquarters.

They were expecting the call to come from Williams. I simply said there’d been a change in plans.

It’s early evening, but a rising full moon and a cloudless sky bathe Balboa Park in a translucent glow. Shadows dance off the buildings and trees as if backlit. The only sounds come from the zoo nearby—the screams and howls of animals responding to some primeval urge to beg the moon for liberation. The animal in me responds, too. It stirs and growls and aches for the hunt.