Chapter 32
DARCIE
My face slams into a hard surface. Pain blooms across my cheekbone and nose. I hiss and blink through the sting as I shove myself upright.
I’m on a floor. Where did Henry take me?
Henry!
I whip around to find the warlock, immediately regretting the move when my head throbs.
I wince, but then my eyes widen.
Henry is pinned to the ground. Gregory straddles him, hunched low, his hand clenched around Henry’s throat. The vampire’s eyes are feral, and his lips pull back in a snarl.
“What are you doing?” I scramble to my feet and rush over, the world still tilting from hitting the floor. “Stop!”
Gregoy doesn’t listen. If anything, his grip tightens.
Henry’s eyes bulge.
“Gregory! You’re going to kill him.”
His response is a low, animal growl.
I don’t know what to do.
Gregory has lost it.
I’m disoriented. Confused.
I don’t know why Henry brought me here, wherever here is, and I won’t if Gregory strangles him.
I grab the vampire’s arm and pull. He rolls his shoulder to shrug me off. The movement knocks me sideways, and I fall to the ground.
Henry makes a pathetic, gurgling noise.
I can’t let him die!
I lunge, aiming to slam into Gregory’s side. The tackle should be useless against a vampire’s strength.
And it would be, if it weren’t for the crackling power that skitters across my palms.
The moment I collide with Gregory, the power bites into his side. He shouts and jerks away from the touch. His hands loosen.
My brain barely has time to register what just happened before Henry sits up with a garbled cry and throws his arm out.
A purple bolt launches from his palm.
“No!” I shout.
The beam hits Gregory square in the chest. He flies across the room, strikes the wall, and collapses.
“Gregory!” My heart leaps into my throat, and I scramble to reach him.
My shaking hands shove him onto his back, and I press my ear to his chest.
I don’t hear anything.
Do vampires have heartbeats?
I can’t remember.
My mind is a mess.
I shift and hover my fingers over his lips.
Please. I beg, my eyes burning. Please, breathe.
The faintest exhale brushes my fingertips.
Relief seizes my heart, and I sag forward.
Thank the Creator.
Harsh coughs punch through my thoughts.
I whirl around, staying crouched at Gregory’s side, one hand placed protectively on his arm.
Henry is on his feet now, chest heaving as he struggles for air.
The warlock’s face is flushed, but his eyes are sharp as blades when they lock on me.
I force myself not to tremble as my disoriented thoughts begin to clear.
Henry took me from the safehouse.
I’d assumed he had good intentions.
That ended the moment he attacked Gregory.
My jaw clenches so hard it aches. “What is going on, Henry? Where are we?”
The warlock’s lips curl into a smirk. He coughs again, clearing the unsettling expression, but it’s burned into my mind.
“Where are we?” I push more strength behind the words and rise to my feet. My head spins, still unsettled from traveling through the rip, but power trickles into my palms.
I’m no fool.
My ability to use this power is sporadic at best, and I’m not a threat to a trained warlock.
But I’ll be damned if I won’t at least try to defend myself and Gregory from whatever the hell is going on.
This time, Henry doesn’t smile. His gaze dips to my crackling palms, then he turns and strides toward a tall metal door on the far wall.
My eyes sweep the space, quickly taking in the chilled concrete floor, bare walls, and lack of windows. The air smells stale, like dust and cold stone.
An unfinished basement, maybe? Or a cellar.
Henry reaches out and grips the rod-shaped door handle.
But it turns before he can tough it.
The door swings inward, and my heart slams against my ribs.
The sound of fabric rustling reaches me before the newcomer steps into the room.
The air stills.
Henry’s coughing subsides.
My gaze locks on the figure, and my frantic pulse seems to stutter, like my body can’t decide whether to explode or freeze from shock or relief or confusion.
“Bella?”