Loki's Gambit, page 218
part #1 of I Bring the Fire Series
“Who’s there?” a young female voice asks.
Dare lets loose a long breath.
“Are you okay?” she whispers.
Somewhere water drips. A tiny little part of him whispers, “Ask her to come closer.”
He’s been schooling that part of himself for the better part of three thousand years. “I’ve been better,” he says instead.
“They’re vampires,” she whispers.
He hears an echo of the water dripping. His hand itches to reach in her direction. He claws at his trousers instead to give his fingers something to do.
“There’s no handle on the door,” she says. “I have these stupid keys, and can’t use them.”
There is a soft thud, and he can tell she’s sitting down by the sound of her breathing.
He sees light behind his eyes, and he must drift off, because for a moment he doesn’t hurt, but then she says, “They killed my sister.” And he is instantly on alert and in pain again. A part of his brain notices the lack of inflection in her voice, and he knows she is in shock and very vulnerable.
He swallows, trying to ignore the throbbing under his skin. His eyes slip closed. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, because he is. He misses siblings and he knows the sharp edge of grief when it is new, and the dull ache when it is old.
He hears her sharp intake of breath, and her body shifting. “Let me help you.”
“Don’t!” he cries, even as his hand reaches toward her, his nails scratching on the smooth stone floor.
“Why?”
His nails drag along the stone. “I’m one of them.” He winces from the pain in his burned skin.
A droplet of water falls somewhere … is it close, or far?
“You’re a vampire?”
“I’m a Night Elf!” he retorts hotly, his tongue catching on his fangs, making his voice sound thick to his own ears.
“You’re the one they were beating up in the other room,” she says. “Odin sent you … like the real Norse God, Odin?”
Drip. Drip. Drip. Her pulse beats in time. Thump. Thump. Thump.
“He’s not a god. None of us are gods,” Dare hears himself whisper.
“You’re here to take them away.” Her voice cracks. “Does that mean you’d kill them if you had to?”
He’s too tired to lie. “Yes.”
“Why did they throw me in with you?”
“So I’d attack you … so they could shame me … but don’t worry.”
The world behind his eyes is brightening.
“Everything hurts,” he murmurs.
And then everything is light and he dreams of screams and blood spilling over his tongue.
The vampire’s head is on her lap, and Penny holds her wrist to his mouth. Her fingers are sore from scratching at the door. Her arms hurt from hanging from the ledge beneath the cell’s single, high, glass block window, and her throat is raw from screaming. She accepts she is going to die, but she won’t go out without a fight. This is how she is fighting back. She is giving her blood to the vampire that is the enemy of Chantilly’s killers. Her life for vengeance for Chantilly and her both. She rocks gently; it seemed like a fair trade when she decided to do this … but nothing is happening.
After the first pinch it hasn’t hurt, but the vampire’s eyes are still closed, and his lips are gently sucking, but nothing more. Chantilly had books where the vampire bit you and you orgasmed instantly; that most definitely did not happen. Penny had expected, had wanted him to turn into an unholy terror. This isn’t what she needs.
Giving a cry of frustration, she’s about to tear away when the man’s eyelashes flutter, and he pulls the wrist away from his mouth himself.
“Don’t stop,” Penny says, feeling hope rising in her chest. “I don’t care if I die.”
He frowns. “But I care.”
She shakes her head and yanks her wrist from his grasp. “No, you can’t. You have to kill them!” The next minute she finds herself pounding on his chest, and tears spilling from her eyes.
He grabs her hands, and whispers, “Shh … Shh … you’re in shock.”
“You promised!” she says, even though he hadn’t really. She tries to rip her wrists away, but his grip is firm.
“I will help you,” he whispers. She sits back on her heels, and feels herself becoming calm.
“Good,” he whispers, and then grimaces. “I need a moment to fix this sunburn.” He closes his eyes, and it’s more than a minute. Penny bites her lip, and thinks of getting up. And then his eyes snap open again. “They’re not here …” he whispers. Meeting her eyes, he says, “I need you to tell me about yourself and how you got here. Starting with your name.”
“Penny, my name is Penny,” she hears herself say.
“My name is—”
“Count Darerick something,” Penny says, trying to hurry this along. “I heard them say it when they were torturing you.”
“Call me Dare … And there were no spiders dangled in front of my nose, so I’d hardly call it torture, Penny.” He shudders.
He’s afraid of spiders? She feels her hopes falling fast. “Can you turn into mist and slip through the door?” she asks.
“No.”
“Or into a bat?”
He squirms a bit and grimaces again.
She feels her face get hot. “You’re not afraid of bats, too, are you?”
One of his eyes open. “No, bats are adorable. I’m just in pain.”
Penny gulps. He’s not going to be much of a help.
His head lifts. “Someone is coming.”
Penny doesn’t hear anything. Her eyes widen. “So you have super senses at least,” she whispers.
He whispers back, “No, I just have pointy ears.”
Before Penny can respond, the door opens. It’s too dark to see well, but the shadow is large and male. He takes a menacing step, promptly trips, and belly flops on the floor.
“Prince Rayne, mind the cracks in the cement, Your Highness,” Dare whispers, his voice raspy and choked, although it hadn’t been so moments before.
“Be quiet, Count,” Rayne replies, and Penny remembers him as the one who knew Chantilly’s name. “Girl,” he says. “Come quickly. I am going to save you.”
“But—” says Penny.
Scrambling to his feet, Rayne grabs her arm and pulls her away from Dare. “Stay back, Count!”
Penny opens her mouth to protest, but Dare says, “Go with Prince Rayne, Penny,” and gives her a tiny nod. Penny’s protest melts away, and she lets Rayne lead her across the cell. She’s still barefoot, and she can’t help but notice that the floor is cold, but completely smooth.
Moments later, they’re outside the door in a hall dimly lit by far-off lights, and Rayne’s locking up the cell. Penny hears the lock click, and it’s like she snaps out of a fog. “No, don’t leave him there!”
Not looking at her, Rayne drags her along the hallway. “Look, I can get you out of here. Everyone knows I was … with your sister. They’ll forgive me for letting you go, but not if I let that nuisance, busy-body escape.”
Twisting her wrist, Penny snaps it out of his grip. “If you loved Chantilly, why did you kill her?”
Stopping in his tracks, Rayne turns and finally looks at her. Even in the low light she can see his eyes are wide and desperate. “I didn’t kill her. I loved her.”
Penny’s mouth falls open. It’s terrible, but she believes him.
He grabs her by the upper arm, his fingers digging into her skin, and Penny knows she’ll have bruises. “I have to get you out of here,” he says.
“You let them kill her,” Penny says as he drags her past a stairwell.
He spins again. “No, I didn’t let them. But they knew I was … in love with her, so they killed her.” His grip on her arm softens. “I’m … I’m … sorry. It hurts.”
There is a noise from the stairwell, and Rayne looks up in alarm. “Hurry.” He doubles his speed, and moments later, they’re at an emergency door. Rayne pushes against it, but it doesn’t budge. The footsteps on the stairs are louder. Rayne curses, lets her go, and pushes again.
From the stairwell, a voice says, “That’s enough, Prince Rayne.”
Penny looks back and sees the vampire who’d been the bouncer last night. He has a pistol in his hand, and it’s aimed at her head, not Rayne’s. Her eyes drop to a ring of keys, snapped to his belt.
“Nor, I just can’t let her be drained,” Rayne says. “I can’t.”
Penny holds her breath, hoping that Nor will look at Rayne for just a moment so she can duck and plow into him. She may not get those keys, but she’s going out fighting, dammit.
Nor’s cold eyes never leave her. Gazing down the barrel of the pistol, he says, “If you’d just taken precautions, you wouldn’t be cursed with this bloody sentimentality. She was only human, Rayne … like this one.”
Another voice rises in the hall. “Oh, dear, what’s going on here?”
Penny blinks. It’s Dare’s voice, though she can’t see him in the gloom.
Nor spins fast. “Take another step closer and I’ll shoot you!”
“Shoot me?” says Dare, emerging from the shadows. “Whatever is that thing in your hand? It looks terribly primitive.”
“It’s a pistol, Dare!” Penny cries.
“To the Norns with this,” Nor says. There is a click from the pistol. Rayne and Penny gasp at once, but no shot rings out.
With shaking hands and arms, Nor brings the barrel of the pistol to his face and peers down it, both eyes wide. “What the fuck?” he says.
There is a crack, and Penny and Rayne pull back as blood, bone, and gore splatter against them.
Willing herself not to puke, Penny glances to where Nor had been standing, and sees Dare standing over Nor’s body. Dare’s wearing a pirate getup like the rest of the vampires—and now the top is stained and bloody. He’s holding the pistol in one hand and keys in the other.
Slipping the keys in one pocket, Dare turns the pistol over, gazing at it studiously. His finger slips onto the trigger, as though he’s testing it, the business end pointed at …
“Don’t shoot Rayne!” Penny says, surprising herself.
“Dare wasn’t going to shoot me,” Rayne says dismissively. Upstairs there is the sound of shouts and running feet.
For an instant, Dare’s eyes meet hers, but he lowers the pistol and reaches into the pocket and retrieves the keys. “If you allow me, Your Majesty,” he says, stepping between Penny and Rayne. The door is open seconds later, revealing a cement stairwell to the ground level.
“I’m not going with you,” Rayne says. Penny stops in the doorway, and looks back at him.
“My prince,” says Dare, his words clipped. “Aurel is going to believe you killed Nor and let Penny and me escape. I strongly suggest you reconsider.”
“I hear people coming,” Penny says, looking down the hallway. Her eyes go to the side of the door and see a fire alarm and above it a sprinkler system. Struck with inspiration, she pulls down on the handle. No water comes from the sprinkler, but a wail rises in the building. Dare and Rayne both scream, clutching their ears.
“Come on!” Penny shouts, running out the door and up the stairwell into the parking lot behind The Cove.
“What did you do?” shouts Rayne, hot on her heels
She hears a slam, and looks over her shoulder to see Dare sprinting up the stairs. The emergency exit is closed behind him, and she hears pounding on the door from the other side. Catching up to Penny and Rayne, he says, “Good thinking, Penny! Do you happen to have access to a vehicle?”
“Yes!” Penny says.
“They have your keys in your handbag!” Rayne shouts, but Penny ignores him. She races over the ground, gravel biting into her feet. She finds her car just where she left it. The driver’s side has no window at the moment, so she doesn’t bother to lock it.
“We can’t ride in this!” shouts Rayne, looking down in disgust at her white, 1990s era, Peugeot 309.
Penny’s feet hurt, the memory of Nor’s head exploding will make her throw up if she thinks about it, she’s tired, wrung out, and her sister is dead. She doesn’t argue.
“It’s unlocked,” Penny tells Dare. “Don’t get in, get ready to push!”
Dare goes around the passenger side without asking questions, and Penny jumps into the driver’s side. She reaches underneath the seat, rips off the duct tape there, tears the spare key off the tape, and jams the key into the ignition. Slipping the engine into neutral, she pumps twice with her foot, gives the engine a try … and gets nothing.
Rayne slides into the back seat and slams the door. “They’re coming. Why do you keep a key in the car? Don’t you worry about it being stolen?”
“They’d never be able to start it,” Penny says, jumping out of the car.
“What?” screams Rayne.
She ignores him and shouts to Dare, “Push now!”
He doesn’t ask questions, just helps her get the Peugeot moving. Grimacing with the effort, she hears the crowd behind her milling around the building, and shouts of, “What happened?” and “Did you see a fire?” Somewhere in the distance, she hears the scream of a fire engine. She and Dare have just gotten the car rolling when Rayne shouts, “Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! We surrender.”
Penny looks up and sees the business end of a rifle held by a vampire not twenty feet in front of them. Without shutting the door she shouts, “Get in!” Jumping into the moving car, she gives the ignition another try as Dare slides into the seat beside her. The engine turns over, and she hits the gas. The vampire with the rifle doesn’t so much leap as soar out of the way, as though he’s been yanked by strings.
In the back, she hears Rayne chanting, “Norns save me!”
In the passenger seat, Dare drops his head to the dash, panting for breath.
Penny guns the engine as they leave the parking lot.
She’s just breathing a sigh of relief, feeling like she’s in the clear when Rayne shouts from the back seat, “How are you not sunburned, Count?”
Penny glances over at Dare. “He’s still a little pink,” she observes. And in some places she can see his skin peeling, like at the end of burn when fresh new skin comes up from beneath.
“You should not be able to move! I saw you earlier. You were a scarlet basilisk!” Rayne protests.
“I think Your Majesty overestimated the severity of my burns,” Dare mumbles.
She hears Rayne inhale, as though he’s about to speak—or shout—he seems to be in that kind of mood, but Dare cuts him off. “Your Majesty has been too wise and too prudent to ever get a sunburn … you don’t know how to judge how severe they are. It was minor.”
Penny remembers Dare laying on the cold smooth cement floor and whispering, “ … I hurt,” and blinks. Also, by the way they’re talking, she can’t figure out if Dare and Rayne are on the same side. Her hand tightens on the stick shift. Somehow she feels that Dare is on her side.
“They were ordered to roll you over a few times …” Rayne mutters.
Nodding, Dare says, “It’s so hard to get good help these days.”
“Still … even with a minor burn, you shouldn’t be as well as you are now …” Leaning forward so fast the tiny car rocks, he shouts between the seats, “Did you drink from her?”
Dare doesn’t respond.
“Yes,” Penny says, hand on the stick, thinking that she just might like to punch Rayne in the nose. “Stop shouting!”
“He’s not strong enough to compel you to split your vein, woman! Why did you let him do that?”
“Because I wanted to make him strong enough to kill you!” Penny retorts.
There is an instant of blessed silence. And then Rayne falls back in the seat and bursts out laughing. “Dare? Kill me? Kill anyone? He probably couldn’t even kill a chicken.”
Penny glances over at Dare. For an instant, she sees his eyes on her. She remembers asking if he’d kill the other vampires if he had to, and she remembers the answer. “Yes.”
“You picked the wrong Night Elf to align yourself with, human,” Rayne cackles.
Penny tightens her hand on the steering wheel, and silently wills Rayne’s head to explode. It doesn’t, and she’s glad, because she thinks he did try to save her, and did love her sister, even if he’s a coward. She blinks, remembering how he’d even been unable to open the emergency exit. Dare had known how … and that makes her think of another thing …
“How did you get out of the cell?” she asks Dare.
Rayne leans forward again. “Yes, how did you get out?”
“I think, Your Highness, that the door didn’t lock, because it swung open just minutes after you left,” says Dare. “Human technology, it’s befuddling.”
Penny’s left eyebrow does a little dance she can’t control. Her eyes slide to Dare. He’s holding the pistol with two hands, the barrel pointed at the floorboard in a perfect grip if she remembers her dad’s shooting lessons right.
“That’s true,” says Rayne. “They’re too primitive to use magic. Blast that door, I thought I locked it.” Leaning toward her, Rayne demands, “Where are we going?”
Penny’s hands shake on the wheel and stick. She hadn’t thought beyond escape.
“Where do you want to go, Penny?” Dare asks.
They’re heading south on 441 toward Gatorland. Penny feels herself go cold. “I want to see where they left Chantilly.”
“We only have an hour and a half before dawn,” Rayne protests.
“I want to see where they took her,” Penny says, her voice hitching, her hands shaking more.
Rayne starts to protest. “But—”
“Let’s take her there,” says Dare in a slow, measured voice. “We owe her that.”
They whiz past Gatorland.
“We owe you that,” says Rayne, his words equally slow and measured.
Dare lets out a long, deep sigh and seems to sink a bit.
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