Chapter 60

“Nyet!” Boris yelled and pointed a tranquilizer gun at Lynda.

She scooted back, holding up her hands. All the rage she felt for this man boiled in her veins. But when she thrust out her magic, nothing happened. Cold sweat beaded down her back. What the hell?

The tranq dart hit her thigh. A prick of pain at the impact, then her leg went numb. Soon her entire body froze and she collapsed.

Boris marched up to her, his black boots smacking against the stone floor. “So you are more like Ekaterina than I gave you credit for.” He kicked her in the side, and pain rocketed through her.

A groan escaped her lips.

“She too couldn't obey and had to be restrained,” he spat. “I'd thought you'd be honored to take her place as our clans’ blood sacrifice.”

Dizziness crawled through her skull and her tongue felt thick in her mouth. “Go to hell.”

His laugh rang in her ears. “And did you think I didn't know you'd attempt to escape? That you'd burn out your magic to do so?”

The room spun, and she squeezed her eyes closed. After all this, she’d failed. Despair lodged in her chest.

“Take her to the circle,” Boris said. “I want her bound before she recovers.”

No! She had to fight this. Had to get away. Agony twisted in her gut as she tried to crawl to the door. If she could get close enough to Boris maybe she could incinerate him with all her strength.

But before she could reach him, hands snatched her up from the stone floor. She kicked and wrestled to get away. All of her ministrations did nothing to free her from their iron grasp. She shoved her magic forward as hard as she could. Nothing. Not even a flicker. What if she’d burned out her power completely? And what about her princes? She’d never see them again. Terror froze her heart as darkness claimed her.

* * *

Lynda woke on a marble table. Chained again, but with silver cuffs that didn't have slack for her to move. Black sashes covered her breasts and crotch. She lifted her head, finding symbols written in blood covering her torso, legs, and arms. Shit! It was some type of ritual and she was pretty sure whatever the purpose was, it wouldn’t be good.

Fire sparked against the night sky as torches surrounded the perimeter of the stone slab she laid upon. Sixty some odd cloaked figures were in the inner ring of the circle. Terror clawed at Lynda's throat. Around them was a courtyard with a statue of a man on a horse, his sword raised for battle with a square tower nearby.

It was deathly quiet. No insects or birds. No noise from traffic or late-night crowds or music. Nothing. As if the world around them had been shut off. Only one thing could do that…a ritual circle. Didn’t need to major in magic at school to figure out that much and whatever Boris had planned wasn't good.

“Help!” she screamed. But her voice sounded hoarse to her ears like she'd barely whispered. “Please, don't do this.”

She searched the hooded vamps for a familiar face. But the cowls hid their features. Slowly, they began to chant in Russian. Words too soft for her to make out. She jerked on the bondages, but they didn’t budge. Taking a breath, she gathered her power to her but it was like trying to catch fog. Untouchable. No, no, no, she had to get out of here.

Fire torches lined the outer rim of the magical sphere. The smoke and heat grew more intense and burned her throat as the circle was sealed not allowing anything in or out.

Weakness pressed against her skull, but she had to escape before Boris completed whatever twisted ritual he had designed. She shoved past her pain to her magic, but its pulse which usually surged in her veins now trickled. Just like in the dungeon. All she had had to do then was find the crack in the chink of metal. But that had taken hours at her full power.

The chanting around her increased in pitch and speed. Goosebumps pebbled along her skin. Then pain twisted deep inside her like someone shredded her soul. She screamed, using all her willpower not to fly apart into a million pieces.

Boris jerked her head back, peering into her eyes. She spat in his face. He’d have to kill her before she allowed him to use her or her magic in any way.

“We need more power,” Boris raised his hands and shouted to the vampires around them.

The chanting ceased as a couple of hooded bodies fell hard to the ground. She strained against her metal bindings to see what had happened. Pierre stood a few feet away from her behind the two dead vampires.

“What you need is a stake up your ass.” Pierre grinned. Each hand held a still beating heart.

Her pulse sped up. “Pierre!”

“The one and only, luv.” He dropped the dying hearts of the vampires and then moved on to the next ring of vampires.

“How did you get past our magical barrier?” Boris snarled.

Pierre shrugged. “I brought some friends.”

Grace and more witches raced across the plateau toward them and relief spilled into Lynda’s heart.

Boris snatched a cloaked figure near him, shoving the vampire into the marble slab and Lynda. The hood fell off, revealing Natasha's face. Lynda gasped still not believing that the half-vamp who had seemed like a friend before the portal to hell would be helping this maniac.

“Complete the ritual now or I'll skin your brat alive,” he hissed.

A flash of rage and desperation flooded her features as her gaze met Lynda’s.

Boris spun away to join in the fight against Pierre.

“You don't have to do this.” Lynda grasped her hand. “We can protect you and your son.”

Tears filled Natasha's eyes. “No,” she choked out. “Even if I wanted to, the blood contract binds me to him...I can't harm him without it slaying me and my son.”

Fucker! Boris was an absolute asshat. But Lynda couldn't dwell on that right now. Pierre was fighting a battle he couldn't win alone. She squeezed Natasha's hand. “Let me go then,” her words caught in her throat ’cause she hated the fact she was so helpless and she was desperate. “I'll take care of Boris.”

“I-I can't...the spell prevents me from harming him even secondarily. Releasing you would be equivalent to setting a bomb. The fact that I know it will kill him stops me from doing it.” Pain etched her features and she sniffed. “I can't help you, I wish I could.”

A helicopter zoomed low. Its blades whipped the air and extinguished the torches. Some of the vamps raced up to the chopper. Grace and half a dozen other witches climbed out. They sent a blast of energy into the vamps, knocking them backward.

Before Lynda opened her mouth to ask again for the half-vamp to help, Natasha turned away from her.

“Hurry! The spell is ready, Boris.”

“No!” Pierre yelled and dashed forward, kicking aside a vamp blocking his path. Then he slid baseball-style between two vampires, punching the back of their knees as he passed them.

Lynda’s heart hammered in her chest as she watched him. God, he was beautiful just like his brothers. A deep ache hit her chest. She missed them so much.

When he reached Boris, her breath stuck in her throat. His hand flashed in his coat and he flung out a wooden stake. It hurled through the air and embedded into Boris’ chest.

Air burst through her lips. He'd done it! Now she could get out of her and rescue Andrei and Mihnea.

“Are you okay?” Pierre rushed to her side.

“Just get me the hell out of here.”

Even though Boris crashed to the ground, the other vampires and half-vamps continued to fight with the witches. One witch had had his throat torn out and a vamp gorged on his blood. Another witch with a missing arm raced away as two half-vamps gave chase.

“I'll get you out of these chains,” Pierre smiled down at her.

But when his hands touched the metal cuffs, his body convulsed.

“Pierre!” she screamed. What was happening? “Pierre!”

He fell in a heap beside the marble table. Her heart clenched painfully in her chest. She strained to lift her head and see him.

Then, to her astonishment, Boris rose. He yanked out his wooden stake. The blood stopped soaking through his robe instantly like the wound had healed. Impossible. Even Dracula couldn't survive being staked. Unless Pierre had missed his heart?

Boris walked over to her. “Thank you for removing from me the first hindrance that Ekaterina put on all vampires.”

“Wha—the stake through the heart?” How could he be immune now? Was it this damn fucking ritual circle? If the threat of wood to a heart or sun was gone what was there to stop him?

“Ah, I see you've come to realize the potential of a superior vampire.” He grasped her hair, forcing her to stare into his eyes. His voice was menacing. A promise in his threat. “And I will rule them all, including you and your pathetic princes.” He licked her cheek. “That is if I decide to let them live.”