A Kiss of Blood (Vamp City #2)(6)

“Yes.”

Her mouth hung open, her eyes going hard as flint as the implications bombarded her. Arturo had sent his buddy to watch her. He’d known right where she was the entire time. He’d never set her free at all!

And suddenly she understood why Mike . . . Micah . . . had hesitated when she’d asked him to help her get Zack to the car. Her car was on the street, in full sunshine.

Without warning, the two Traders lunged for her.

“Use your power, Quinn. Now!”

There was only one power she trusted. She aimed and fired at the lead Trader, once, twice, but aiming at a moving target was a lot harder than at a stationary paper silhouette, and she had no idea if she’d hit him. He wasn’t slowing!

With her third shot, he flew back. Micah disappeared, and, a second later, so did the Trader who’d hit the floor. Both materialized moments later in the dark foyer, Micah’s skin smoking from that short dousing of simple daylight. Not even direct sunlight.

But she had no chance to celebrate. Before she could swing her aim to his companion, the second Trader was upon her, ripping the gun from her hand. Though she fought him with everything she had, he pinned her easily, wrenching her arms behind her back. In her peripheral vision, she saw him make a fist, as he’d done the last time he caught her. He’d knock her out, and she’d awaken in Cristoff’s dungeon. Or within the clutch of Cristoff’s torture-loving hands.

Raw terror slid through her veins, making the power inside her crackle and spark. But when she tried to use that power to throw him off, it failed her. Naturally.

A blur caught her eye, then the Trader at her back was gone, joining his buddy a heartbeat later in the shadowed foyer, slammed up against the wall by a second male, this one scorched and charred beyond recognition.

As the acrid smell of burning flesh raked her nose, the male healed, slowly at first, then more and more quickly, revealing a handsome, dark-haired vampire she knew all too well.

Arturo.





Chapter Two

Quinn stared at the vampire who’d assured her he would be trapped in Vamp City until the magic was renewed. A myriad of emotions hit her at once—disbelief, despair, terror. Fury.

Did his freedom from V.C. mean the magic had been renewed? If so, it hadn’t helped Zack, not at all. Or had the vampires being trapped been just one more of a long string of Arturo’s lies?

He turned to her, his dark gaze colliding with her stunned one, his eyes filled with hard determination as he turned back to the Trader in his grasp.

“How did you find the sorceress?”

As the Traders struggled ineffectively against the far stronger vampires, Quinn searched for her gun, spying it against the wall behind her reading chair. She reached for it, picking it up as Arturo’s voice dropped to that hypnotic tone of his that appeared to work as a low-level mind control. What she always thought of as his Obi-Wan voice.

“Tell me how you found her.”

The Trader fought to free himself to no avail. “We saw her a couple of days ago but lost sight of her near here. We’ve been looking ever since. Today, we saw her again and followed.”

Arturo glanced at Quinn. “Is he telling the truth?” His gaze pinned her, his eyes at once hard with violence and soft as he waited for her reply.

Her heart pounded, her mind racing as she tried to make sense of his being here, as she tried to untangle all of his lies. “I don’t know. All I know is that they’re the ones who caught me and sold me to the slave auction a couple of weeks ago.”

With a brief nod, Arturo reached into the Trader’s chest and pulled out his heart, killing him instantly. Mike did the same to his companion.

Quinn swayed from the shock of the violence as the bodies fell to the floor. She wasn’t sorry to see the Traders dead, but . . . good grief. Death meant nothing to the vampires. Nothing. But, of course, she knew that.

Even as she reeled, the bodies turned to smoke, evaporating. Definitely not human.

As the vampires turned toward her, keeping to the shadows of the hallway, Arturo pulled a handkerchief out of his back pocket and wiped the blood off his hands.

Vampires. In her world, her apartment.

“Has the magic been renewed?” she demanded.

“No.” A hint of guilt flashed through Arturo’s expression. “You are the only one who can renew it.”

But she’d known that. On some level, she’d known he hadn’t really let her go. “You lied.”

“You were safer here. Cristoff could not reach you.”

“But you could. You have.” She frowned. “You’re not trapped by the magic. Are none of you trapped? Was that just another of your multitude of lies?”

Arturo spread his hands. “I did not lie, except about myself. I am one of few who were not within the city when the magic began to fail. I was not caught by it, and am still able to come and go as I please. As can Micah. Most within Vamp City are trapped there.”

“You wanted me to feel safe here, didn’t you? And to not try to escape.”

He shrugged, then propped one shoulder against the wall just inside the shadows. As usual, he was dressed, head to toe, in black—a silk shirt tucked into dress pants—the fit of the clothes setting off his lean, muscular build to masculine perfection. Dark hair, cut short, framed high cheekbones, a well-defined jaw, and a beautifully sculpted mouth. Even his skin had the kiss of a warm Mediterranean sun, though he hadn’t been near sunlight in centuries. Damn him for a handsome, lying bastard.