Chapter 17
Worth Getting Yourself Killed
Karson didn’t speak the whole way as we walked Dahlia to her car.
All he snarled to her was, “I will deal with you later.” Even Dahlia had the good sense not to retort.
We walked down the street to his car in utter silence, and somehow that was worse than if he’d shouted. I thought he was trying not to explode. I definitely didn’t want to be around if he did.
The door of the car snapped shut behind me. He stomped around the front and slid into the driver’s seat, slamming that door shut too.
The silence stretched out all around me, pressed against something that felt like guilt, expanding inside like dough in a dirty oven. Perhaps coming out here hadn’t been the wisest of choices.
He drove fast, the muscle in his jaw popped out so far it looked like a lollypop. His skin was still paler than usual, making lips designed by cupid appear crimson.
“You look better,” I ventured after a while.
Karson shot me a look that could freeze the sand in the middle of a summer heat wave. “What the hell are you doing out?” Karson didn’t roar; he didn’t have to for me to shrink into my seat.
“I wanted to go to the library.”
“You wanted to go to the library,” he repeated. “Well, that’s just fantastic! Tell me, Amelia, was reading a book worth getting yourself killed?”
“I didn’t die,” I retorted.
“You are unharmed because I turned up. Had I not got there in time …” He shuddered—the king of vampires shuddered.
We pulled into a parking lot in front of a funeral home, which was directly beside a cemetery that stretched as far as the eye could see. Tombstones rose out of mist, hovering in the air like ghosts refusing to rest.
“Out,” he snapped.
“What … why?”
“Because you’re going to see what happens when you walk the streets alone at night in Portland right now.” He didn’t wait for me to respond. He was at my door, opening it. “And I need to see who the other two dead vampires are.”
I sat there. “I don’t need to see—”
“I’m not leaving you alone. So, you can climb out or I can carry you out, the choice is yours, Amelia.”
“That’s not really a choice.”
Something brewed in Karson’s eyes. Something that looked a lot like it wouldn’t end well for me if I continued to sit here. I gritted my teeth and climbed out of the car.
“You’re such an ass sometimes,” I muttered before I could stop the words tumbling out.
He gave me a look that would stop a siren’s song. “I know it’s nearly impossible for you, but do try not to antagonise me further. I’m in no mood for it right now.”
“And I’m not in the mood to see dead bodies, but here we are.”
“And I wasn’t in the mood to venture out tonight.” His tone filled with sarcasm. “But here we are because of a poor choice by you.”
I definitely lost that one.
I trailed up the steps behind Karson as he pounded on the door. I folded my arms. “Who told you where I was?”
“I have eyes and ears everywhere, very little goes unnoticed, so if you are planning to sneak out again, I’d strongly advise you to reconsider.”
Karson thumped the door again.
A male grumbled, “Alright, alright.”
A light came on, and I blinked against the onslaught of brightness. The door creaked partly open. A man with balding hair, wearing a brown dressing gown, peered out. He adjusted thin-rimmed spectacles up his nose and frowned. “What on the gods’ earth has you in such a flap?”
“You have bodies I need to see.” Karson didn’t wait for the man to agree. He pushed the door open and shouldered past him, stepping into a long hallway. I followed them inside.
The portly man tightened the sash around his waist and hurried to get past Karson. “I have about thirty bodies, which ones are you wanting to view at such a god-awful hour.”
“Two vampires. They would have come in together. Have you cremated them yet?”
“No, I’ve been busy. I was going to do it later this morning.” He led us down a corridor to some stairs. Ahead, there was nothing but darkness.
My body grew taut and my heart rate picked up as faint, indiscernible voices, like distant radios, spoke all at once, and ringing echoed around the darkest edges of my head. There was nothing good in basements, nothing good in darkness, nothing but terror and pain.
Karson glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and slowed until I was at his side. Fluorescent globes flicked on automatically as we went, the burst of white blinding me doing little to slow my heart.
“Witch or vampire cause their murders?” Karson asked, his voice distant against the incessant noises in my head.
“They used a blade to the heart to disable them, then severed their heads.”
“Witch, then?”
I swallowed.
The man raised his wiry brows and shrugged.
“Who knows these days. Deaths are messy from all fronts.” He opened a door to a cold, gray room and held it open for us to walk through.
White sheets covered two bodies on metal tables.
Small body freezers filled the entire back wall.
I shivered and halted just inside the door.
It swung shut, sealing us in. My body went from chilled to freezing.
The man walked to the table and peeled the sheet back.
The vampire was a female, her severed head resting above where her neck was hacked off.
Hacked seemed right—her neck was a pulped pile of jagged flesh.
Her mouth hung in an O shape, as if she had died screaming.
Her skin was so gray it looked like someone had rubbed her face in charcoal.
I felt the blood drain from my face. I yanked my gaze away and folded my arms to hide the shaking in my hands.
Karson moved closer and inspected her, then nodded.
The man lifted the corner of the other sheet.
The ringing increased and the radio voices joined into a chant.
I closed my eyes and tried to block it out.
I knew that it was just my mind creating it.
No one was here but us. I sucked in a deep breath, and I smelled sterile antiseptic and—
Rot, like meat a day past its use-by date. My stomach lurched as I fought not to vomit.
“Were any more vampires or witches brought in last night?” Karson asked.
“A young witch. She was found by the river. She’d been sexually violated then strangled, so it could be an ordinary that was the cause. The police are looking at the father. Apparently, he has charges of sexual assault in the past. She’s in here.” He pulled open a drawer.
The chanting increased until it became a deafening roar. I caught a glimpse of dark hair; it swayed limply over the edge of the table. My head reeled as something deep, something lurking, crawled toward the surface of my mind. Panic exploded through me.
Run.
I turned and ran.
One second I was running blindly down the corridor, the next I was flying, scooped up into Karson’s arms. We moved with such a rush of speed, my sickened stomach roiled.
“Put me down,” I rasped.
The predawn night air was cool against my skin as he placed me down. I staggered off to the side of the building. My whole body shook as I clutched the side to hold myself steady and retched watery bile.
“You face living vampires who are about to kill you without fear, but a couple of dead ones brings you undone,” Karson said, humor in his tone. I knew what he was doing; he was trying to ease my distress.
I gulped in air, trying to settle my stomach.
“I was hoping to scare you from going out again. I didn’t realize you’d be affected so badly.” Now there was a touch of regret in his tone.
“I was scared,” I snapped, spitting on the ground, trying to remove the terrible taste from my mouth.
“You let her see the bodies, didn’t you.” Monique morphed from nowhere. The rare show of guilt Karson displayed increased into a knot in his brow.
Michael appeared from around the corner.
“I thought it would make her realize the risks of going out when you’re a witch at the moment.” He passed me a tissue to wipe my mouth.
“Were they the ones you let live?” Michael asked.
Karson raked a hand through his hair. “Yes.”
Monique raised her brows. “Was this the work of witches?”
“A blade was used to sever their heads. A vampire would just pull it off.” There was a pause as the news sank in.
Michael placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. “It could very well be a vampire trying to make it look like a witch is responsible.”
I swallowed repeatedly, trying to rid myself of the bile burning in my throat, and straightened.
“You could be right, Michael. What if Sarah had the vampires killed to make it look like witches did it.” My voice quietened as I added, “Or it’s retribution because they didn’t finish you when they should have, or because whoever ordered it didn’t want any witnesses to admit it was you who killed the vampires, not witches. ”
Karson looked at me with a mix of surprise and awe. “I’d hazard a guess Sarah had them killed in equal parts revenge for disappointing her and so witches would be blamed.”
They looked amongst each other. “Who would gain from that if witches and vampires get into a war? Both sides will have casualties,” Monique said.
“Sarah,” Karson growled. “If we are too busy fighting, we don’t have time to look for her.”
“We know some of the vampires who attacked were newborns, but not so new they can’t control the urge to feed.” Monique frowned, folding her arms. “Do you think she turned them just to attack you?”
Karson shrugged. “She would know newborns stood no chance against me.”
They almost did stand a chance, a pretty decent one, had the two that fled stayed and finished the job … A shudder crept over my skin.
“We need to stop this before it gets out of hand.” Michael’s gaze drifted across the mist churning across the graveyard, turning the tombstones into moving bodies, the fog into spirits.
“I’m not entirely sure this makes sense.
There’s no way someone as arrogant as Sarah wouldn’t have thought her plan to kill Amy would fail.
Why would she think to turn them in advance? ”
Karson blew out a breath and followed Michael’s gaze. “She knows from centuries of experience to always have a plan B and C.”
Michael shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. “I’m confident we can put a stop to the witches and vampire issue before it escalates any further, which covers plan B.” He glanced at Karson. “But the question is, what is plan C?”