A Blood Seduction (Vamp City #1)(60)

"What's going to happen?" she asked, as they reached the center and turned toward one another.

Grant answered. "Sheridan knows the ritual but has little sorcerer's power. I have more, but not enough. We're hoping that by joining ours with yours, we'll have enough to renew the magic."

"So I don't have to do anything?"

Sheridan glared at her. "You could shut up."

Grant gave his brother a look of disgust. "Ignore him, Quinn. Everyone else does."

Suddenly, Grant was hanging two feet off the ground, his brother's hand around his throat as the younger Blackstone flashed a pair of wicked fangs.

"Sheridan!" Cristoff shouted from outside the aurora.

Sheridan ignored his vamp master for half a dozen seconds before dropping his brother to the dirt. The pair glared at one another, the animosity thick between them. Then, in that way men had of shaking off discord, they appeared to forget their animosity a moment later. As one, they turned to her, each reaching for one of her hands. Their palms pressed against hers, one human-warm, the other vampire-cool.

The second they gripped one another's hands, completing the circle, a stinging heat clawed at her palms, and she jerked away from them, running her hands down her hips, easing the ache.

"What happened?" Grant asked. They were both staring at her.

She looked at them in surprise. "Didn't you feel that?"

Grant watched her as if not entirely pleased. "What did you feel?"

"It hurt."

"It shouldn't have. Not if you're a sorceress." He glanced at his brother, but Sheridan just shook his head, his expression mirroring Grant's. "The magic let you in. You're one of us, or it wouldn't have."

Sheridan held his hand out to her. "Shall we continue?" The hard edge of his tone challenged her to man up. Asshole.

She glanced behind her at Arturo and Cristoff standing side by side, watching her, Arturo with concern, Cristoff with a sharp look that had her pulse ratcheting as she turned back. She did not like that man . . . vampire . . . whatever.

Taking a deep breath, she once more placed her hands in those of the brothers Blackstone. Like before, the magic stung, but she clamped her teeth together and rode it out, praying that the ritual didn't take long.

Beside her, Sheridan began to whisper words, a running chant so low and quick, she barely caught half of it. As he chanted, the stinging spread from her hands into her arms, and up, like a slow, acidic burn. The pain moved into one of her shoulders a second before the other, sliding into her chest, making her gasp as it traveled down her body, through painfully sensitive parts, and into her legs and feet even as it rose up her neck into her head until she was rigid with misery. Still, the chanting continued, over and over, until her forehead was damp, her body shaking.

"I can't take much more of this," she managed between gritted teeth, realizing belatedly that she was squeezing the bejeezus out of their hands.

Abruptly, Sheridan's chanting ended. Both men released their grips and pulled their hands from hers. Slowly, the pain began to ease and die.

Grant looked at her with concern. "What happened?"

"I was going to ask you that."

"Cristoff will not be pleased," Sheridan warned.

Grant took Quinn's arm. "Does it hurt when I touch you like this?"

"No."

Grant led her back out of the aurora, and suddenly Cristoff was in her face, grabbing her jaw with a cruel hand. "The magic attacked you. What did you do to make it attack you?"

"I don't know. Believe me, I didn't enjoy it."

He smiled. "I did." He released her suddenly and swung away. "Perhaps you need a bit more persuasion to accept the magic and save our world. I believe you have a brother?" He grabbed Grant's left hand and lifted the three-fingered appendage. "It's extraordinary what a bit of familial persuasion can do."

His meaning slammed into her, draining the blood from her face. Zack. He'd hurt him, maim him just to force her to cooperate. And she didn't know how! Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Arturo staring off into the distance, his expression closed. He'd told her he'd never come between her and Cristoff.

Grant was the one who came to her aid, jerking his hand free of Cristoff's hold. "Her magic is untapped. Trying to call it forth on a null day was precisely as successful as I predicted it would be."

Cristoff glared at the Slava with ill-disguised dislike, but he turned and started back for the horses without another word.

Quinn turned to Grant, gratitude in her eyes, but he walked past her without a glance. Sheridan met her gaze, his own cool, before turning to follow his brother. She felt like a first-class failure. If only she had some idea of how to do what they asked. It was one thing to refuse, another entirely to be inept. Heaven help her if Cristoff got his hands on Zack.

With a shuddering breath, she started after them. Arturo fell into step behind her, but cold fury had her turning away. She longed to tell him to go to hell and leave her alone, but she needed his help to get out of this place in one piece, and she knew it. Damn him. If Cristoff ordered Arturo to find Zack and cut off his fingers in front of her, he'd do it. He'd do it!

Arturo said nothing, not even bothering to attempt an apology. In silence, he helped her mount, then led her horse back the way they'd come, following the others, as before. Several of the vampire guard in front turned toward the west, and she followed their gazes. Her breath caught at the sight of six large wolves sitting on the rise beneath the trees, watching them depart. Holy shit. From this distance, they looked just like wolves, if big ones. Werewolves.