Patricia Briggs - Blood Bound

It wasn't a basement so much as a very deep hole dug into the dirt to allow access to the plumbing under the house. There were a few old shelves leaned up against a foundation wall, and some fencing materials. On the other side of the room was a canopy bed straight out of a bodice-ripper romance.

My flashlight picked out an embroidered pattern on dark velvet fabric that enveloped the bed, hiding its occupant, if there was one.

I lowered myself down onto the top of the ladder, and very carefully stepped down two rungs. From there on it was an easy scramble to the ground. I opened my backpack and took out the stake and a mallet I'd taken from the shop: I'd learned it was harder than I'd thought to punch the stake through a vampire's heart,

I left the backpack and its remaining goodies near the foot of the ladder. They wouldn't do me any good until I'd staked Andre, and I had as much as I could carry with the mallet, stake and flashlight.

Above me, lightning struck somewhere nearby, making me jump. If I didn't calm down, I was going to have a heart attack before I killed Andre-and wouldn't that be a waste?

I stood as far from the bed as I could and used the stake to pull open the bed curtains.

Andre was there. When the beam of the flashlight caught him in the face he opened his eyes. Like Wulfe's had been, his eyes were filmed over and blind. I took a step back, ready to run, but he just lay there with his eyes open. He was fully dressed in a pink knit shirt and beige slacks.

Heart in my throat, I forced myself to walk forward and lay the flashlight on the bed where it still gave me some light, but wasn't likely to roll around and blind me. I set the point of the stake down on his chest. It probably would have been smarter to open his shirt, but I couldn't force myself to touch him. The stake had gone through Littleton 's clothing, it ought to go through Andre's as well.

Though I'd been suffocated with qualms all day, finding his prisoners had freed me from my conscience at last. Andre needed to die.

His hands started to move, startling me so that my first hit was off and the stake slid across his ribs instead of going in. He opened his jaws, showing fangs and his hands moved toward his chest.

Quickly I set the stake again and this time I hit the end squarely with the mallet. I felt the wood hit bone and push forward through the softer tissues beneath. I hit it again and the stake buried itself in his chest.

Like Littleton, Andre's body began to spasm. I ran toward my backpack chanting, " knife, knife, knife," and tripped over some unevenness of the dirt floor. I was still on my hands and knees when Andre knocked the flashlight off and it rolled under the bed, enclosing us in shadows.

I scrambled forward, finding the pack with my nose and fingers. Zee's knife in one hand, I walked slowly back into the now silent black corner. The flashlight's muffled light showed me where the bed was, but it made it more difficult to see inside the bed where the curtains shielded the vampire with shadow.

Did you really think it would be so easy?

The toneless voice burned in my head. I tried instinctively to block it out with my hands over my ears, but it was useless.

Did you think I'd be easy prey like my poor Cory, who was just a baby.

I wanted to turn around and run. I wanted to hide as far from the vampire as I could. I was no match for a vampire, especially not this vampire. The old bite on my neck started throbbing, the ache spreading into the shoulder Littleton had damaged.

That was his mistake, because the pain cut through the fear and allowed me to realize that the fear was imposed from outside myself. Once I knew that, it was easier to ignore.

I continued forward, stopping when my knees hit the edge of the bed. My fingers found his chest, then the stake and I moved my hand forward into the blackness until I touched his throat.

He turned his head, quick as a snake and bit into my wrist. Pain blossomed like a mushroom in my head. I moved my hand and his head followed, stretching upward as if the only muscle control he had was in his jaw.

Zee's knife had no trouble cutting his head off. I used it more carefully to pry my wrist free of his bite-I didn't want to slice myself up any more than Andre already had. I had to cut through his jawbone to free my wrist.

When I was through, I took a moment to be sick and then used Zee's knife once more to cut strips off my linen jacket sleeve so I could wrap my wrist. It wasn't as if anything would ever get the jacket clean again anyway.

I was disoriented and shocky, so it took me a while to find the backpack again. The dragon medallion was warmer than my fingers.

It was easier to find the bed this time. My eyes were accustomed to the dark and the flashlight beam, as dim as it was, was the only light in the room.

I set the medallion on his chest.

" Drachen," I said and suddenly there was more light than my eyes could handle.

Blinded, I had to stay where I was for a moment. By the time I could see, the fire had spread from the vampire, to the bedding and smoke filled the room. I couldn't wait and reclaim the medallion or the stake without suffocating from smoke inhalation. So I left them behind and scrambled up the ladder. Zee's knife was still in my hand.

The skies were dark, boiling with energy, and as I stumbled out of the broken patio door, the wind pulled a tree limb off a nearby tree. The wind, or something else tugged and pulled me away from the house. I had to cover my eyes because dirt and plant matter filled the air.

I staggered to the picnic table and touched the man's shoulder. "Come on," I said. "We need to get to the car."

But he fell over, off the bench, and onto the ground. Only then did my brain catch up to what my nose and ears had been trying to tell me. He was dead. The woman was lying forward on the table, as if she'd set her head down and fallen asleep. My heart was the only one beating. She was dead, too.

As I stood dumbfounded, I became aware that there was something missing. The whole time I had been here I could feel the weight of the dead teasing the outer edges of my senses. There were no ghosts here, now.

Which meant that there were vampires nearby.

I spun around, looking, but I would never have seen him if he hadn't wanted me too.

Wulfe was leaning against the wall of the house, looking up at the sky, his head banging rhythmically against the wall of the house in time with my furiously beating heart.

Then he stopped and looked at me. His eyes were fogged, but I had no doubt he could see me.

"It's daytime," I said.

"Some of us aren't as limited as others," he answered me. "Andre's death cries have roused the seethe by now. Marsilia will know he is dead-they have been bound for a long time, she and Andre. It won't have to be much darker before the rest of us are here. You need to get her away."

I stared at him, then realized he wasn't talking to me-because a cold hand wrapped around my upper arm.

"Come on," Stefan said, his voice strained. "You need to get out of here before the rest come."

"You killed them," I said, digging in my heels. I didn't look at him because I didn't want to see him looking the way Wulfe and Andre looked in the daylight. "They were safe and you killed them."

"Not him," Wulfe said. "He told me you would never forgive him if he did. It was a clean death, they weren't frightened-but they had to die. They couldn't be allowed to run free crying, ‘vampire. And we need culprits to give to the Mistress." He smiled at me and I took a step closer to Stefan. "I came to find the house on fire," he said, "and two humans, Andre's current menagerie, outside of his house. I always told Andre that the way he kept his sheep would be the death of him someday." He laughed.