Chapter Thirty
Thirty
Darian’s large black Chevy Suburban waited outside her dad’s house; he leaned against its hood wearing sleek black dress pants and a charcoal button-up shirt, oblivious to the light rain.
Cally parked their Zipcar opposite, pulled her bag off the back seat, and offered Eve a tight, brief smile before they stepped out.
Darian didn’t say anything, simply opening the passenger door for them. It was imperious and irritating, but Cally and Eve got in anyway. Better that than be seen by her dad.
“Where are we going?” she asked as Darian drove.
“South side of Milton. Nice and quiet.”
“Just the three of us?”
“No,” he said, with a half-chuckle like that would be insane. “I have a team waiting.”
Cally reached across the seats for Eve’s hand, resting on the bag between them, then watched the raindrops on her window. Darian hadn’t asked if she could do the spell; he’d just assumed.
Just as well. That way she didn’t have to lie.
But maybe she could do it. Maybe all their prep would pay off, and it would work as it was supposed to.
No way of knowing until she tried.
It was a five-minute drive from her dad’s house to where Darian pulled off the road, parking near a line of trees. Two black SUVs waited, but no one was in sight.
Barely two miles. Too damn close. If she needed more incentive, she had it.
She got out, grabbing her bag. It had stopped raining, the air fresh with the smell of wet pine and damp earth.
A man stepped out of the trees, dressed in black tactical gear with a flak jacket and a submachine gun. In broad daylight, like he didn’t care.
But Darian was right: it was quiet around here.
“She’s the specialist,” Darian said by way of greeting, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at Cally. “She doesn’t go anywhere without an escort.”
“Roger,” the man acknowledged. “And the other?”
“Her friend. They’ll stick together.” Darian turned to Cally. “You stay with Mikhail here. Go where he goes and do what he says.”
“I do, do I?”
Darian narrowed his eyes and said nothing, then went to the trunk of his SUV and retrieved his own flak vest and weapon. He pressed an earpiece into place and thumbed a throat mic. “All teams, this is Sentinel. Report.”
Cally threw Eve a look, and she gave a subtle eye roll in response.
Then they were off through the trees, damp pine needles and mulch under her boots.
Darian didn’t seem to care about the state of his dress shoes.
Three other men fanned out around them, all with weapons in their hands.
They walked only far enough for the road to be out of sight, before stopping well back from the tree line.
Beyond lay open ground, with a large house in the distance.
Two men kept watch on a balcony, while others patrolled the grounds below.
Thralls.
Darian turned to her. “Is this close enough?”
No idea. “Should be.” She didn’t want to get any closer.
“What do you need?”
She pulled her bag from her shoulder. “A flat space, for starters.”
Darian gestured, and two of the men got busy sweeping brown leaves and twigs aside to reveal the damp earth beneath. Eve watched critically, then stopped them when it was large enough.
“Can you tell us exactly where the vampire is?” she asked as she pulled out her trusty pot of white paint and started to decorate the forest floor.
Darian thumbed his mic. “Charlie team, do you have thermals on the target?” A pause. “And he’s prone?” He listened. “Roger.” He pointed to the left of the house as they looked at it. “That’s the south side. He’s two rooms in, top floor. That accurate enough?”
Eve didn’t answer, just pulled out Marcel’s compass and arranged the candles around the two thick circles she’d drawn.
“Candles, huh?” Darian muttered. “Alec, go get umbrellas from the cars. Just in case.”
“Sir.” One of the men trotted off.
Cally pulled out the obsidian and her pin, running through the invocation in her head. Keeping her mind busy kept her anxiety at bay, along with the thought of all the guns surrounding them.
“All yours,” Eve said, giving Cally an encouraging pat as she passed.
“How long will this take?” the man called Mikhail asked, finger twitching on his trigger guard.
“It’s magic, not science,” Cally muttered as she stepped carefully over Eve’s lines and settled herself within the circles. “It’ll take as long as it takes.”
“Here you go,” Eve said, handing a cigarette lighter to him. “You can start us off.”
Mikhail took it without objection, shouldered his weapon and crouched to his task. Trust Eve to charm even an Order thug. Cally would’ve smiled if she wasn’t feeling sick.
She focused on the distant house, trying to center herself, quietly going over the Gaeilge she’d memorized.
Darian crossed his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes.
Cally glared at him. “Are you going to stand there and watch? Do you know how distracting that is? At least go behind me.”
He didn’t say anything, but he did take a few paces around the edge of the circle.
“That’s no better,” Cally told him. “I can still feel your eyes on me. Can’t you look at the house or something?”
“Just get on with it.”
Yeah. Great advice.
Cally pricked her finger and wiped her blood on the obsidian, trying to shut out the distractions.
The forest fell quiet as the men watched expectantly.
The earth beneath her was moist and cold, leeching damp into her jeans.
The man Darian had sent off returned, only to be hushed as he approached. A car drove by on the distant road.
She focused on the vampire in the house a few hundred yards away. Nico Aldobrandini. The man who had killed her mother.
“Fan i do chodladh, ná dúisigh go deo.” Stay in your sleep, never awaken.
No sooner had she begun, than Cally felt her power reach out. It was like her bond to Antoine, only instead of a tug, it was a push. It was working! The spell was doing something.
She focused harder, not letting herself get distracted, concentrating all her intent on the sleeping vampire.
“Ceangailte agat, níl slí le himeacht uaim seo.” Bound you are, no path to leave me from here.
Her power seemed to swell, pulsing toward the distant house. Pulling from within her, almost like the pull of Antoine’s feeding.
Draining from her, too. She took a sharp breath, half sudden fatigue, half surprise.
“Stad anois, ná gluais go brách.” Stop now, move never.
She said the words with all the intent she could muster, hearing the vehemence in her own voice.
“Mo chumhacht ort, beidh tú faoi smacht.” My power on you, you are under command.
She felt like she’d run a marathon, but the incantation was complete, and she didn’t dare move or take her mind from the vampire. She could almost feel his presence, asleep in his room. She lifted her head, flicked her eyes to Eve, then focused on the house once more.
Eve took her cue. “That’s it, the spell’s done.”
Darian thumbed his mic. “All teams, go.”
“Well done,” Eve muttered. “Stay focused.”
Damn right. “Stad anois, ná gluais go brách,” Cally repeated, as men broke from the tree line from all directions, bearing down on the house.
Some dropped to a crouch, firing silenced weapons, and the steady phut phut phut carried through the air.
One thrall on the balcony dropped out of sight, the other hitting the barrier and falling over, careening to the ground below.
“Four tangos down,” Mikhail muttered.
The distant sound of glass breaking, and the crump of a charged explosive.
“Mo chumhacht ort, beidh tú faoi smacht.” Cally kept the spell going no matter that she was exhausted, not wanting the noises to risk waking the vampire. He would tear through the Order soldiers without slowing. And then escape.
“Two tangos inside,” Mikhail reported, clipped and taut. An explosion rocked the house, far larger than the ones that had come before.
“What the hell was that?” Darian snapped.
Mikhail pressed his finger to his earpiece. “Boobytrap,” he reported grimly. “We lost… most of bravo team.”
“Fuck. Get that goddamn vampire out.”
“They’re breaching the top floor.”
Bright flashes burst through the windows, the distant crump of a muffled detonation following a second later.
“Stad anois, ná gluais go brách,” Cally said again, focusing hard as the Order fought outside the vampire’s room.
“Mo chumhacht ort, beidh tú faoi smacht.” The obsidian felt heavier now, her arms trembling.
She slumped, supporting herself with one elbow on her knee. “Stad anois, ná gluais go brách…”
“Not long, babe,” Eve said quietly beside her.
“Vampire’s room has a reinforced door,” Mikhail said. “We’re breaching.”
“…Mo chumhacht ort…” Every word was an effort. The obsidian touched the ground, her arms not strong enough to lift it. “…beidh tú faoi smacht.”
“We’re running out of time,” Darian said. “She can’t hold on much longer.”
“They’re in,” Mikhail said, as another explosion rocked the house. “The vampire is…” A pause, then an exhale of relief. “…ours. We’ve got him.”
“Get them all out,” Darian said sharply.
“All teams, target acquired,” Mikhail barked. “Withdraw.”
Cally raised her eyes to Eve, too tired to frame the question.
“Can Cally stop?” Eve asked immediately. “Is the vampire secure?”
“Yes, she can stop,” Darian said. “She did well,” he added.
But Cally had already sagged forward, the obsidian spilling from her grip. She had a moment to worry about her hair catching in a candle’s flame, before darkness claimed her.