Chapter 40

Lynda stood and brushed the sandwich crumbs off her pants. Dusk was approaching, but Natasha hadn't returned yet. Not knowing what was going on ate at her. What if the zombies had overpowered her and the others?

What about Pierre and Mihnea? Were they okay? And the fact Andrei hadn't answered them or shown up made her want to tear the city down until she found him.

Zombies or no, she had to go check on her men, then find Natasha or Boris. Had her blood worked on the other zombie-vamps? Well, sitting outside wasn't an option. Her imagination would wreak havoc with what was going on inside. Plus, she needed to see if they'd missed a message from Andrei last night. She shivered, but opened the door to the building.

Inside it was dark and quiet. Opposite the traffic and brightness of the patio. For a second her hesitation faltered her steps. The urge to check on her men and the status of the zombie cure was stronger so she pressed forward.

First, she dashed to her room. Mihnea and Pierre lay in the bed unmoving. After she looked them over to assure herself that they hadn't been bitten while she was gone, she peered at all their cell phones. No messages.

Whenever she got ahold of Andrei, she was tagging him with a GPS tracker.

She stuffed her phone into her back pocket, then picked up the empty gun that Natasha had given her. Not that it would do any good against zombies, but it made her feel better having it.

Locking the door behind her, she set out toward Boris’ room. It was empty except for the bed and blood stain glistening along the wall and carpet. Her heart slid up her throat. That was her blood painting portions of the room.

A gurgling groan bounced off the walls making her draw the empty pistol. Her hand shook. “Who’s there?”

Another muffled sound then a door clicked closed. Natasha rounded the corner and jumped slightly.

Lynda couldn't make herself lower the gun. “I-is that one of them?”

“Yes.” Natasha sighed. “I just gave him the third vial of your blood as the first had little effect.”

She placed her hand over Lynda's and the gun, pushing down slightly until her arm was at her side and the barrel pointing at the floor. “There, that's better. Some might take offense at you pointing a gun at them.”

Lynda pushed the gun into the waistband of her jeans. “It's not loaded. So how long do we have to wait to know if three vials is the magic number to cure everyone?”

“I'd say thirty minutes or less.”

A thump hit the wall next to them, and Lynda jumped.

“Is it safe...being close to them like this? Could he come through the wall?”

“Don't worry, I would move us away from here if I thought he could get out. The walls are reinforced.”

The tension squeezing Lynda's shoulders didn't ease at all. But she figured there was time to get her mind off the zombie separated from her by plywood and sheetrock and whatever they'd used to make the walls stronger.

“Okay. While we wait, teach me what you know about magic.”

Natasha leaned back, her shoulder and hip against the wall. “Gotta century?”

“Ah, all right.” Lynda laughed. “How about the basics then and some defensive spells?” Witches trained for years and Lynda needed a crash course in thirty minutes that Natasha had available right now.

“Magic is inside you. Every part of you, every cell. Always present and always ready. But depending on the spell, you can deplete the power like a battery and how to recharge.” She crossed her arms, her eyebrow arching. “So what kind of defense spells are you needing?”

“Ones to knock Dracula on his ass.” She swallowed as the memory of Mihnea in that staked Iron Maiden came front and center in her mind. “Maybe even kill him if I had no other choice.”

Natasha's mouth opened in a gasp, but she nodded. “Come on, I'll have one of the others watch our patient and come get us if there's a change or in half an hour.”

She pulled out her cell and spoke in Russian for a few minutes her voice rising, then hung up and pocketed the phone.

“Everything okay?” Lynda didn't want to get Natasha in trouble with the other members or jeopardize the safety of everyone if there weren't enough vampires to protect against the zombie ones. “I don't want to cause any problems.”

“It's fine. Let's go to my room so we can work without interruption.”

As though hearing her, the zombie in the room next to them banged against the wall with a body thump.

“Sounds good.” Lynda followed her down the hallway to a stairwell and they ascended three flights. Her thoughts drifted back to Natasha's phone conversation. She didn't speak Russian, but sounded like she had been upset at something. Was the person on the other line Boris? Had he not wanted Natasha to leave her post because of the zombie threat? And Natasha still hadn't told her how many were infected.

When would the sunset hurry up so she could see Mihnea and Pierre? That thought made her giddy as if she were a teenager again.

She and Natasha entered a room that was twice the size Boris’ had been. Then again, Lynda wasn't certain that room had actually been his or just a spare room they'd stuck him in.

A queen-size bed sat next to the wall, unmade. Romance and westerns were strewn across the bed and floor.

“Sorry, I don't get many visitors.” Natasha pushed the books into a pile. Then rose and placed her hands on her hips. “What do you know about magic so I know how basic to go.”

She needed...wanted to learn everything...but there wasn't time for that. “Not much, really. Didn’t realize I had power until my princes were in danger, then it just came out of me.” She shrugged. “But it’s essential that I’m able to channel it at will and not haphazardly.” ‘Cause what if one time in the future she required it yet couldn't get it to work. That thought terrified her because it would mean that Mihnea, Andrei, or Pierre would be hurt and she'd be helpless to do anything.

“Well, it's kinda like Chi that the Asians talk about along with your will.” She brushed her hair off her shoulder. “The build-up starts in your gut and solar plexus then tunnels out through your hands.”

A small blue flame appeared in Natasha's palm when she stretched out her hand.

“Now you try.”

Lynda furrowed her brow, concentrating on making a flame. She held out her hand, but nothing happened.

“Don't worry so much. Just allow the power to flow through you.”

“Easy for you to say.” Lynda squared her shoulders and stared at her hand. She imagined a flame like Natasha's. “It's not working.” She sighed. The Russian made magic look effortless like flicking on a switch.

“Well, I've had decades to practice and learn.” She placed a hand on Lynda's shoulder. “Don't be so hard on yourself, it takes time and practice. You're lucky you were able to perform any magic at all and you saved your men’s’ lives before.”

“Still doesn't make me feel better about the future.” She sat on the edge of Natasha's bed. “What if I screw up?”

Natasha stayed standing. “Then you will learn a great lesson.”

“That's not good enough.” She ran a hand down her face. “One or more of those I love could be in danger or get hurt. I have to figure this out.” If she didn’t, it could mean not only her life, but the lives of Mihnea, Pierre and Andrei. Her hope of getting along with Dracula had been shattered when she blasted him. But even if Dracula wasn’t in their lives, there was always the chance of someone else trying to hurt the princes. The Russians, for example, had been their enemies for centuries and she was pretty certain they weren’t the only ones in the vampires’ violent history. She had to be able to protect herself and her men. Heat flooded her body as she squeezed her hands into fists.

Natasha rubbed her chin. “What emotions are you feeling right now?”

“Frustration.”

“What else?” Natasha nodded.

“Fear, Anger, disappointment that I can’t do this when you make it look simple. Why?”

“Cause I think we narrowed down your power to what triggers it.” She raised her eyebrows. “Strong emotions.”

Lynda stiffened. Had she done something? She opened her hands and glanced at her palms, but there wasn’t any magic flame in them. Just the half-moon imprints from her fingernails. She glanced back up. “How do you know that?”

Then the stench of something burning hit Lynda from behind and Natasha grabbed her hands and pulled her off the bed. Bluish flames chewed on the blanket.

“Cause you just set fire to my bed with your magic.”