Chapter 56

Grace gave Lynda a curt nod despite the hollow look in her eyes. “Okay, follow me.”

Together they raced down the hallway, Lynda's breaths lodging in her chest. If Dracula was here, he'd blame her for the condition of his two sons. Pierre would defend her, but if his father had her data, he could wait another hundred years or so for another DNA match to make half-vamp offspring. Why did he need to waste time letting her live?

Terror settled in her gut. Not just for her life but her men would be devastated. Pierre had lost at least one love that she knew of. His brother, Mihnea, would lock up his heart tight and never trust in love again. And Andrei...who had brought them all together...he'd take her death the hardest believing it was his fault. She shook her head, no she had to make it through this. Had to get Dracula to back off and give her back her program.

A stitch hit her side as she ran after Grace. Damn, why did the witches have to make this place so huge? And if the witches had spent their time showing her how to use her magic instead of calling her to trial, she might have been better prepared to face Dracula. She got lucky the last time she fought him, she doubted she'd get lucky again.

A wall struck her chest, and she flew backward, air whooshing out of her lungs. What the hell was that? She rubbed her breastbone which felt like a sledgehammer had hit her. Nothing was in front of her except a few flickered magic orbs.

“Grace!” she yelled.

The witch stopped and spun. “Did you trip?”

“No. Something punched me.” And it still stung. She stood and took two steps forward when her forehead smashed into something solid.

Grace jogged closer.

“Wait!” She held up a hand. “I think it's some kind of invisible barrier.”

“Okay, I'll get rid of it,” Grace said. “Rimno Xeri Dua.”

Tentatively, Lynda pushed her fingertips out. The wall was a slick, hard surface like glass but thicker like a block of concrete. “It didn't work.”

Grace's brow furrowed. “Sujtob Marenta!”

“Try again.” Lynda encouraged. She had to get to Pierre and the others and help them.

Another scream vibrated through the air.

“There's no time.” Grace shook her head. “I have to go help the others. Follow the path to the right, it will bring you back here on this side of the wall.”

No! “Please I know you can do it.” Even if Lynda doubled back, she wouldn't make it in time. Everything in her screamed that she had to get past this barrier now. “Let me see if I can get through.”

“Your magic isn't stable.” Grace paled. “And this enchantment is different.”

Dread filled Lynda's heart until it felt like it weighed a ton. “What do you mean?”

Grace met Lynda's stare. “Another witch did this. A half-breed.”

“A necromancer, like me?” Then maybe Lynda could discharge it. “Or one of the Canadian witches?”

“No. All witches in the coven are pure-bloods. This smells different than any of them, different than you.”

Who had Dracula brought with him? Didn't matter. She was getting her princes and getting out of here. “Go and find Pierre. Help him if you can.”

“What about you? The castle is a maze that you'll get lost in.” Fear swam behind Grace’s eyes.

“Let me figure that out.” She gave the other woman a small smile. “Now go. Hurry.”

Grace dashed away. As soon as she was out of sight, Lynda brought up the panic simmering under the surface of her nerves. She was going to blast through this thing even if it meant tearing the whole place down.

She placed her hands on the invisible barrier, concentrating on moving through it. Her palms itched like she’d rubbed them in poison ivy, but she didn’t stop. “Let me pass.”

Doubt and worry trickled into her emotions. She shook her head, closing her eyes to drown out the alarm swelling in her throat and threatening to close off her air supply. A panic attack right now wouldn’t help anything. She gritted her teeth, imagining the wall collapsing and her passing through. Tingles shot up her arms and she gasped, stepping backward. What the hell? Wait, did that mean it’s working?

Carefully, she replaced her hands on the wall. This had to work. Pierre needed help. Just thinking of him fighting his father and a slew of half-breed witches and whatever his father had blackmailed to come with him brought seething anger to her skin. Her flesh was hot and tight. A loud clap sounded and the wall vanished underneath Lynda’s fingers. She’d done it!

She stepped forward to race to the others.

“Lynda!” a familiar female voice called behind her.

Prepared for anything, Lynda raised her hands, ready to attack.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, it’s me.” Natasha waved her arms. The Russian girl had blood coating the side of her face and her leather jacket had a gash down the front of it. Last time she’d seen Natasha, she was weeping over a small boy that Lynda had brought back to life after collapsing the building.

“Wha—What are you doing here?”

“Come with me, you’re not safe if you stay with the witches.” She limped as she walked forward.

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Doubt pressed into Lynda’s belly. “How do I know this isn’t a trick?”

Natasha’s face pinched as if Lynda had struck her. “Because you saved my son. I owe you a blood debt and I promise you will not be harmed.”

That eased some of the tension but not all. “Who attacked you? Was it Dracula? Are the others with you?”

Had the Russians followed Dracula to the witches’ hidden castle somehow? They had to have. He hated them and must have planted the zombie virus in their blood supply to wipe them out. Counting on them being out of the way when he went after Lynda. To him, it must have looked like a win-win. He had her data and immortality on his side—so he didn’t need her. And if her blood hadn’t healed the Russians, they’d have been out of the picture and he’d have no one to challenge him except his sons. Buy a few witches and have them put in a coma for a few decades, then make up some wild tale that the witches had killed Lynda.

She covered her mouth with her hand. Kincaid. He had to have been lying. This entire thing was a setup…a tangled web of deceit. “How did you know how to find me?”

“We set up a tracker on you,” Natasha hobbled the opposite way. “Hurry now before he finds you.”

“Dracula?”

Natasha nodded.

“But Pierre and Grace…the other witches are this way.” Not all of them could’ve been working with Dracula, right? He wasn’t that good with his people skills.

“Th-they’ll be fine. Once we get you out of the castle, Dracula will follow suit.”

Lynda looked down the hallway where the barrier was, then back to Natasha. What the half-vamp said made sense. But the thought of leaving her men behind felt like a boulder pressing down on her chest. The witches could kill them…her step toward the invisible wall echoed against the stone floor.

“Please, Lynda.” Natasha grabbed her arm. “Your men would want you safe so they can concentrate on the battle. And the fighting will stop as soon as you’re not here. I promise.”

Lynda bit her lip. Anguish at bailing while Pierre and Grace fought against how many? Were they outnumbered? Dizziness mixed with nausea flooded her. Maybe she could still help, still do something.

“There’s a magical barrier just ahead. Can you break through it? We can take Pierre and the others with us.”

“No.” Natasha inhaled sharply like she smelled something. “There’s no time. And we wouldn’t be able to get everyone out. The enemy will just follow us and we’ll be right back where we started.” She raked a hand through her blond hair. “Trust me, this is the only way.”

She turned and walked away from Lynda the opposite way of the magic wall and the fighting. “But do what you want, I won’t stop you.”

Her insides twisted. Why did she feel like Natasha was lying? The half-vamp had helped her and been her friend, but why did unease slither up Lynda’s spine? What should she do? True, her magic was powerful, but it was glitchy as hell. She quirked a half-smile at the pun. But what if her power backfired and hurt Pierre like it did back in Dracula’s mansion? What if it did worse than scar his chest? She couldn’t live if she hurt Pierre…Andrei…or Mihnea even if it was accidently and with the best intentions.

Once more, she glanced back at the invisible barrier. Was it still up? Had it been a temporary thing one of the enemy witches had done to keep any more from coming to help? She dashed forward, holding her hand out to check. The solid surface met her fingertips. Damn!

She couldn’t go through this way. Maybe Natasha was right. Still, her insides churned as she spun away from the wall, racing down the hall to catch up to the half-vamp.

“We’ve got a safe house where he can’t reach you, okay?”

“Great. But what about my men?” Was Pierre okay? And she needed to fix Andrei and help Mihnea as well. “We need to get them out as soon as possible. Andrei is in some kind of magical coma and Mihnea…he’s in full-blood rage despite the witches’ magic and giving him blood.” Her blood as well. But if her theory about Andrei was right, she had given her blood to the wrong brother. Maybe Natasha, since she had magical abilities too would have some ideas on how to fix them if Lynda’s blood didn’t work. She shivered. No, she couldn’t think like that. If she did, she’d shut down if their situation was that hopeless. There had to be a way. She just had to find it.

“They’ll be able to join you later.” Natasha faced ahead. Her jawline clenched.

“Did Dracula attack you?” Her half-vamp friend must be in a lot of pain. She wouldn’t heal as fast as a full-blooded vampire. If only Lynda knew how to heal, she could help her and they could move faster. “Is Boris taking Dracula on?”

As a master vampire himself and Ekaterina’s cousin, he’d have enough strength to hold his own against the legendary first vampire.

At a small window, Natasha paused.

“What is it?”

“A portal. Step through the window and you’ll be transported to the safe house.”

“What?” Lynda scowled at the open window that showed snow drifting outside and a long way down to the ground. “But witches can’t travel like that.” Kincaid had told her that much. Or had he lied again?

“It’s not impossible, just highly expensive, hard, and unsteady. No hurry before it closes.”

In other words, dangerous. God, I must be a hazard-magnet. Lynda stared at the opening. Pea-green and murky yellow swirled across the open window. Like an oil slick that smelled strongly of sulfur. “You’re coming with me though, right?”

“Yes.” Natasha nodded and gave her a tight smile.

A scuff of a boot on stone brought Lynda’s attention down the hall. She stiffened, thinking it was Dracula. But Pierre with blood coloring his shirt stood there.

“No, Lynda don’t. It’s a demon portal,” he shouted.

Before she took a step, Natasha shoved her forward and both of them tumbled through the window and into the abyss. The air rushed out of Lynda’s lungs in a strangled cry as she tumbled, the taste of metallic blood stinging her tongue.