The Ripple Effect (Rhiannon's Law #3)(85)

I thought he’d go for the gun resting a few feet away, but he didn’t. Instead I found myself running at full-speed toward Victoria. Knocking Dimitri aside, I wrapped one hand around her throat and fisted her hair in the other.

“This is your doing,” I rasped, the tenor unnatural and odd as Disco used my voice to speak. “My only regret is I’m unable to present you with more than death.”

I learned then that breaking someone’s neck wasn’t difficult when you had vampire strength. The bones popped, snapped, and finally cracked. I wondered if Disco was done when I felt myself reaching for Sucker. While I might need to have a vampire on the ground to perform a beheading, Disco had no such problems. One swift arch of my arm and her head was no longer a part of her body.

Disco pivoted around, so that I was facing the vampires in the room. They were no longer wild and bloodthirsty, their hands limp and harmless at their sides. There was trepidation in their gazes, an awareness that Gabriel Trevellian was back and wasn’t taking any more shit. It was amazing, seeing how much power he wielded, how the vampires in the room cowed at his presence.

Shit. They know.

They could feel Disco just as well as I could. I’d been told the infamous Mr. Trevellian was more powerful than I knew, but I was only starting to glimpse how truly stunning my lover was.


“My name is Gabriel Trevellian.” Disco spoke through me, his voice exactly the same even though it came from my mouth. “As the Master of New York, I’m ordering you to take your servants and go. Failure to do so will result in your demise. Make your choice.”


Boy-oh-boy, did they make their choice. The room emptied so fast it made my head spin, the impressions of people rushing by me so quickly I almost swayed. I figured the only reason they walked briskly rather than running was they wanted to salvage some part of their pride. I sagged when Disco left my body, returning control to me. I felt empty without him, incomplete.

“You have to hurry,” he informed me, sounding weak. “I can’t see where I am, but I assume it’s in the basement in the slave quarters. We have to depart before word of what has transpired spreads. Come to me.”

“Jenny,” I whispered, knowing I had to find her. I couldn’t leave her behind.

“What of her?” I felt Disco accessing my memories, filling himself in on what happened. Then I felt his outrage, his fury at what had been done. His tone softened, a sympathetic caress intended to soothe me. “We’ll locate your sister. Focus on one thing at a time.”

Sound advice.

Rushing from the room, I searched for any of the slaves in the home. I found what I was looking for when I left the ballroom behind. Slaves were still on their knees, as though they were waiting for me.

“One of you take me to the basement,” I said quickly, afraid if I didn’t hurry something else would happen and Disco would remained trapped.

A male slave rose and guided me down the hall, past several rooms, and into a kitchen. My feet stopped working, my eyes trying to put some semblance into what I saw. The brain recognized it, but the heart rebelled.

I really shouldn’t have looked at the island in the center of the room.

The young woman I’d seen in the dining area was hacked to pieces. Naked and chopped to all hell, her torso was the biggest part of her left. Her head was facing my direction, her blue eyes dead and covered with a white film. It was an image I’d never get out of my head, one I’d have to live with forever. The only thing I was grateful for was her spirit had crossed over, leaving the shell that was her body behind. Come to think of it, all the spirits in this hell must have done the same, departing when they were given a chance. One blessing in a cesspool of nightmares.

“Here, mistress,” the slave said, yanking me away from the macabre sight.

I never would have seen the panel in the wall if the nude man hadn’t shown me where it was, the wood blending perfectly with the wall. He pushed a circular button disguised by a swirling knot in the surface and the door swooshed inward.

I shoved him aside and surged down the stairs, coming into an area that made me want to vomit. Slave quarters indeed. Metal cages lined the walls, each with a bare mattress and a bucket. I could see a threadbare bathing area at the far end, the tile shower like one you’d see in prison, next to a toilet and sink. I couldn’t see if anyone was in the dark area, but I did spy a shiny metal coffin next to a partially-made hole in the ground.

Disco.

It must have hurt when my knees hit the cold earth, but I was numb to the pain. I searched for a way to open the coffin, running my fingers over the surface. There was a lock on the side, one that had to be broken.


Lifting my head, I gazed around and saw the shovel resting next to the unfinished grave. I scrambled to it, got the tool properly in hand and started slamming the metal end against the silver hinges holding the lock in place. When the top one came loose, I tossed the shovel aside and flipped it around, until I could open the coffin. I grasped the lid, sinking my fingers into the metal, and threw it open.

My heart sank when I saw the silver all over my lover—the way it melted into his skin—and the dried tears of blood on his face. I started ripping the metal away from his arms and throat, tossing them over my back, before I worked on the cuffs on his wrists and ankles and slid the silver ball from his blistered lips. I couldn’t believe he’d managed to display such power earlier in this condition. Since he hadn’t opened his eyes or spoken, I knew he was weaker than he had led me to believe.