"You can go, Sandra," Vlad said, his eyes darkening back to their normal copper color. "Your part in this is forgiven."
Released from his gaze, she blinked, then said something very fast in Romanian.
"Of course this is still your home," Vlad replied impatiently. Then he waved a dismissive hand. "Go."
A bearded guard escorted Sandra out. I was glad to see her leave. She'd done nothing to warrant being here, unlike the vampire suspended on the tall wooden pole.
Vlad stared at Shrapnel. For an instant, a tornado of rage, frustration, and regret assaulted my emotions. Then it was as if a wall slammed down, cutting off everything except my own angry feelings. Even the swirling energy coming from Vlad dissipated.
"You know what happens now," he said, sounding utterly dispassionate.
I did, too. Bring it on! a vengeful part of me snarled.
Then I remembered the grisly machines in the next cavern. Vlad would show no pity in order to discover where Cynthiana was, but if I could link to the brunette vampire, I could spare Shrapnel some of that. He deserved to die for what he'd done, yet if my powers had hung on through my transformation, I could make it a quicker, less painful death. If I didn't at least try, wasn't I as heartless as the bitch who'd cold-bloodedly murdered several people in her attempts to kill me?
"Let's try something else first."
Only Vlad's eyes moved as he glanced at me. "He's come too far to be cajoled into giving her up now."
Shrapnel bared his teeth. Not a smile. One predator's warning to another. Then he said something in a language that sounded like Romanian, but more guttural. Vlad grunted.
"I have no doubt you'll make me work for it, my friend." Then to me he said simply, "Leave. You won't want to see this."
That, I had no doubt, but I wasn't finished.
"He's tough as nails, so you can do your worst for weeks . . . or let me do my best in minutes."
Vlad glanced at my hands with a hard little smile.
"It's very likely your abilities won't work so soon after your transformation, if they return at all."
"I'm still filled with voltage. The rest has to be there, too."
So saying, I bent and touched the ground with my right hand. Nothing. After a few seconds, a sound escaped Shrapnel; half sigh, half laugh. Even though he knew it meant his torture, he was glad.
My mouth thinned as I touched the ground again. Still nothing but cold, uneven stone. I did it a third time, yet despite how essence-soaked these rocks must be, I saw nothing.
"Leila." Vlad sounded almost weary. "You can't stop this."
He didn't realize it, but those words only fueled my determination. All my life, I'd been told, "You can't." First it was "You can't compete at an Olympic level," yet I won a shot at making the gymnastics team. Then after all the nerve damage from the accident, it was "You can't walk again," but not only did I walk, I joined the circus as an acrobat. Then it was "You can't touch anyone," but I met Marty, a vampire who became my work partner and best friend. Then later, it was "You can't ask me to love you," but now I was Mrs. Vlad Dracul, thank you very much.
I glared at the gray stone floor. No way would a hunk of rock defeat me after everything I'd been through.
I didn't touch it again - I raked my hand over it so hard that I cut it on the tiny edges in the stone. Then I concentrated until I didn't hear Vlad's continued admonitions to stop or Shrapnel's mocking laugh.
There. No louder than a whisper, far more fleeting than a glimpse, but something was there, dammit! I concentrated until all my being was focused on the stone beneath my hand, and then I saw it. Gloriously gruesome images of a charbroiled vampire thudding to the floor where I touched, his mouth open in a final, silent scream.
I rose, only now noticing that Vlad knelt next to me, giving me a look of exasperation as he drew my hand away.
"Leila, enough - "
Whatever he saw on my face made him stop speaking. Very slowly, he let me go. Then he rose while the oddest mixture of pride and irritation peppered my emotions.
"Good news is, you get out of torture," I told Shrapnel. "Bad news is, I'm going after your girlfriend, and now her spell doesn't matter because I'm already dead."
Chapter 39
I wanted to start trying to link to Cynthiana immediately, but Vlad said dawn was almost here. I took his word for it since I had no idea what time it was. Besides, Cynthiana didn't know the tables had turned. Now she was the one who'd be relentlessly stalked, and once the sun set tonight, the hunt was on.
We left the lower level and headed for the secured room on the fourth floor. I'd been right that most new vampires were housed underground near the dungeon, but Vlad had the equivalent of a presidential suite for vampires he wanted to show special favor to. Yet as soon as we were back on the main level of the house, a plethora of noises assaulted me.
The clamor of footsteps above and below. Numerous metallic clangs in the kitchen as pots and pans were used to make breakfast. Voices from people or electronic devices, and underneath it all, the rhythmic throb of multiple heartbeats.
My stomach clenched and little daggers poked me in the lip. Almost there, I thought in relief as we passed the indoor garden and headed toward the grand staircase. All I had to do was keep from going blood berserk for a few more minutes.
"Leila, thank God!"
My sister's voice made me groan out loud. Gretchen ran down the stairs, looking both relieved and mad.
"His goons said you were too injured for us to see you, which is a lie since you look fine - "
Another sound escaped my throat that made her stop in mid-sentence. "Did you just growl at me?" she asked in disbelief.
Vlad glanced at me and then his hands closed around my arms. "Stay back," he told Gretchen sternly.
Too late. Pain ripped through me, flipping a switch in my brain that made me incapable of seeing the little sister I loved. Instead, I only saw the cure for my agony inside a flesh package that was easy to tear.
The next few moments were a blur of struggling followed by relief as that impossibly delicious nectar slid down my throat, extinguishing the burn that made fire seem blissful by comparison. After I swallowed every drop, I became aware of a scream consisting of the same panicked question.
"What is wrong with her, what is wrong with her, WHAT IS WRONG WITH HER?"
"Nothing."
Vlad's voice. Hearing it cleared away the lingering insanity, as did feeling his calmness through the fractured layers of my emotions. He was behind me, his arms unbreakable bands that kept me from hurting her or anyone else. I sagged in relief against him, the mindless haze finally leaving my vision.