Chapter 55

Inside the small chamber, Lynda shuddered as she gazed down at Andrei. His handsome face was pinched, but there was no movement or response still. Sweat coated his forehead and his cropped, curly hair. Somehow, he looked so fragile this way, like he wasn’t a vampire but someone pale and sick.

“We need to give him some of my blood.” She wavered on her feet, exhaustion crawled through her now that she wasn't confronting the elder.

She knelt beside Andrei and lifted her wrist to Pierre for him to break her skin with his fangs. Instead, he frowned down at her.

“You're still recovering from me biting you when I was a zombie.” He shook his head. “He might awaken in blood rage and I won't be able to stop him from draining you dry. It's too risky. Wait until the other witches get here and finish your healing, then we'll give him your blood.”

Vampires in blood rage were five times stronger. Something like adrenaline in a human giving them temporary strength to lift a car. For vamps, it was the ability to throw off anyone supernatural or not until they had their fill of blood and returned to normal. Only way to stop them was to have enough fighters to attack them and keep them busy. Here, it was just her and Pierre. All this so-called necromancer power and she couldn’t do anything. She felt so helpless.

“We have to do something.” She laid her hand down on Andrei's chest. “Can't just leave him like this.”

“I know it's hard, but I don't want you falling ill.” He sat behind her and wrapped his arms around her. “But Andrei and Mihnea will skin me alive if they discover I let you do this in your condition.”

She leaned back against him, every cell in her body saying he was right. Her heart said he was wrong and that it would be worse to wait.

“Please,” his voice softened. “Let's go and check if the Canadian witches are here yet. After they heal you, then we will return and see if your blood heals my brother.”

“What's the use if they just want to kill me?” she asked. Fear made her words sting her throat.

“Not all of us agree with Elder Kincaid,” Grace said from the doorway. “Many of us don't hold someone accountable for their DNA.”

That was good news if she could trust it. “But what about the trial and everything?”

“With the other witches coming, we can ask for a new hearing.” Grace smiled. “I know a few of the witches coming, they aren't as strict in their beliefs as those here.”

Lynda rubbed a hand across the back of her neck to ease the rising tension there. “Then why didn't we just plead my case up north in their territory?”

“A witch must be tried in her own territory unless a tiebreaker is needed.”

“So why do the Canadians have a say then?” Pierre asked.

“Because they are in this place during an un-ended trial.”

Great as if Lynda didn't have enough to worry about, now she had to deal with new witches. And despite what Grace said, there was no guarantee that Lynda would get off on a clean slate. At least she could go meet these witches, ask for a healing, then come see about Andrei and Mihnea. “Alright, let's go see if they're here yet.”

She stood, and Pierre followed suit, taking her hand.

“This way,” Grace pointed down the hallway. “There's a greeting chamber that the guests arrive in once they cross the barrier.”

Lynda nodded only half-listening. Her thoughts drifted to her men. Without them, she felt like two huge pieces of her heart and soul were missing. Maybe one of the witches coming would know how Lynda's magic actually worked and could help her learn to control it. That was if Grace was right and they weren't prejudiced like Kincaid.

Pierre placed his arm around her shoulders. She drew comfort from his presence. How would she have gone through all this alone without their support?

They rounded a corner, continuing down a long hallway. The witch lights ahead flickered and Grace skittered to a stop.

“What is it?” Pierre asked.

Witchlights signaled the lives of the witches who had created them. Why would they be blinking? And it wasn't just a few, it was rows of them down this hallway.

“Something's wrong.” Grace ran down the hallway in the direction they'd been headed. “Stay here.”

Like hell! Lynda tore after Grace with Pierre easily kept pace with her.

“Don't get involved,” he said beside Lynda as she huffed after the witch. “Let's take Andrei and Mihnea home. In a bit of time, you'll recover completely and you can heal them.”

“No. I want to help if I can.” Besides, with Mihnea being under the blood rage, they had no way of holding him at the house. At least here he was contained.

Overhead, a string of lights popped. Pierre grabbed her against his chest as the magic in the lights exploded. Then another strand and another. Pitching them into darkness.

Lynda pushed off Pierre and called out, “Grace?”

“I'm here,” she said.

“Where? I can't see anything.” Lynda waved a hand in front of her face, unable to distinguish it from the blackness around them.

“She's two feet to your left.” Pierre placed Lynda's hand on his arm. “I can see fine, let me lead you both out of here.”

He guided her to where he said Grace was, then all three shuffled forward.

“There's a fork up ahead.” Pierre moved his arm but didn't loosen Lynda's grip.

“Left.”

Down the second hallway, all of the magical orbs were out too but a cluster of them shone at the opposite end. Dread coiled in her gut and she swallowed down bile at what the missing orbs meant.

“All these lights gone...it means the witches died, right?” Someone murdered them. Her stomach clenched as sorrow slammed into her for those lost lives.

Who would have done this? Kincaid and the others who agreed with him taking out those who might have sided with her that she wasn't an abomination and deserved to live?

A scream echoed in the distance, and next to her Pierre stiffened, his whole body rigid.

“What?” Lynda turned to him. “Do you know who is doing this?” She could barely make out his face with the now flickering lights at the end of the hallway.

“I smell blood...lots of it.”

Lynda's heart clenched. Was it Dracula? Had he hunted her down? Killing those in his path like he'd done to those innocent people when he took her data?

“Get Lynda to safety!” Pierre insisted, but she gripped his arm tighter.

“No, I can't lose you too.” Her soul felt like it was splitting apart. Shattered.

“You'll be right behind me, Luv.” He cupped Lynda's cheek and kissed her lips lightly. “But someone is massacring the witches and I can help stop this.” His dark eyes shone with compassion and determination.

Unable to speak past her drying throat, she nodded.

He zipped down the hallway and disappeared.

A shuddering sigh escaped her lips. Lynda shook herself and straightened her shoulders. “All right, take me to the greeting chamber.”

“But Pierre said to take you ou—”

“No one is going to take Pierre or either of his brothers from me. Now will you show me the way so we can save time or do I have to find it on my own?”