Chapter 45
Forty-Five
“An interesting observation, Gabriel,” came Belle’s voice from the doorway.
She leaned against the jamb watching them all, arms folded across her chest, dressed in casual clothing—jeans and a disconcertingly pink sweater—both splattered in blood.
“While it certainly bears further discussion, Brookline’s finest are camped either end of the road, nervously summoning up the courage to come and knock on your door.
” She arched one eyebrow. “I suggest we’re not in when they do. ”
“What are you doing here?” Cally said coldly. It was the first time she’d seen her since Antoine’s revelation about her mother, and indignant rage pushed to the surface. How dare she show her face?
Belle’s lips curved in amusement. “I live not far away, and the whole of Fisher Hill knows Antoine is hosting a party tonight.” She looked at Antoine.
“I’d have been here sooner, but there were some gatecrashers at the front that I stopped to deal with.
But the police are moving in as we speak, and a SWAT team won’t be far behind. We must depart.”
Antoine crossed the room to kneel beside Noah, pressing fingers to the side of his neck. “We’re not leaving until we have everyone.”
Cally dragged her eyes from Belle with an effort.
This wasn’t the time—and anyway, what could she really do?
It was better to wait, to see what opportunity availed itself.
Then she felt guilty for letting her anger take priority over Noah’s wellbeing.
She spoke with as much calmness as she could manage. “Is he all right?”
“He’ll be fine.” Antoine rocked back on his heels and stood. “He just needs time to heal.”
He said nothing more, but his expression reflected his relief, his care.
Nine thralls, Noah had said. “How many have survived?”
“Too few,” Antoine said grimly. “Zoey and Marcel. The rest are dead.”
“Belle is right.” Gabe pushed himself to his feet, Eve in his arms, cradled gently to his chest, still unconscious. “We don’t have long.”
“I let Zoey know. They’re on their way up.” Antoine walked to where Nico lay on the floor, his disfigured neck drawing the eye.
“He’ll heal that,” Gabe commented. “Want to leave him for the cops?”
“I told him the next time I saw him, I’d kill him.” Then he muttered, “Besides, he put his hands on Cally.” Antoine drove his boot into Nico’s skull, caving it in with a wet crack. “He won’t heal that.”
Gabe gave no reaction. “What of Tobias?”
The crippled vampire dragged himself across the carpet toward where Antoine now stood, spine twisted, legs limp and useless. His single-minded purpose seemed to confirm Gabe’s theory.
Antoine watched him come, face expressionless, then raised a foot once more.
“No, wait,” Gabe said urgently, making him pause. “Don’t you see? This is the evidence we need.”
“For what?”
“To prove to Anastasia and the others what Roberto is capable of.”
Antoine gave him a long look, then his boot lashed out, catching Tobias’s head. But it wasn’t the death blow he’d applied to Nico; he only struck hard enough to knock the injured vampire unconscious. “Now we have too many to carry.”
Zoey arrived in the doorway with a wheezing Marcel, who clutched at his chest as he caught his breath. She took one look around the room and raced to Noah’s side.
“Good evening, sir, madam,” Marcel said between gasps, greeting Gabe and Belle. He turned to Antoine. “The police are outside. I suggest you use the skylight exit, sir.”
“We were just figuring out the logistics.”
“I’ve got Eve,” Gabe said quickly. “I’ll take her back to my place. She’ll be safe there.”
Cally gave him a quick look, but he held her friend with such gentleness that she knew he’d take good care of her. Besides, he was the closest they had to a doctor. “She’s not marked,” Cally said anyway. “She won’t heal like we do.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll give her more of my healing if I need to.”
“That’s two,” Antoine said. “I’ll take Cally, but I can’t manage Marcel or Noah.”
“I’m not going anywhere, sir,” Marcel said slowly, no longer breathless. “I will return to the panic room and wait for the police to find me. Someone will need to explain tonight’s events.”
“There is no explanation,” Antoine said. “We are all fugitives now.”
“Not at all, sir.” Marcel drew himself up.
“The house was attacked, our over-eager defense contractors employed weapons we knew nothing about, and you were absent at the time.” He said with a perfectly straight face.
“I can’t stay here tonight anyway, so I will welcome a short stint at the police station.
” He almost smiled. “I have very expensive lawyers on retainer; I won’t be there past breakfast.”
“Noah’s waking up,” Zoey said from near the wall. “I’ll take him through the backyard, to Tom and the other thralls.” She lifted him like he weighed nothing and slung him over her shoulder. “I’m going to leave now, while I still can.” She nodded to Marcel as she passed.
“I suppose that just leaves me,” Belle said. “I will take Tobias back to my house, and keep him incapacitated until you decide what you wish to do with him.” She picked him up and slung him over her shoulder, with a lot less care than Zoey had shown Noah. “Don’t dawdle now,” she added as she left.
Cally quickly gathered the spell books and laptop, shoving them all into Eve’s bag. She hooked it over her shoulder and handed Eve’s phone to Gabe. “Ask her to call me when she wakes up?”
“Of course,” he said. Then he winked at Antoine. “Stay in the shadows.”
Antoine laughed ruefully. “Thank you for coming.”
“Thank you for saving Eve’s life,” Cally said, and he gave her a nod as he left.
“Are you sure you’ll be all right?” Antoine asked Marcel, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Of course, sir. I need to destroy the databases and ensure there’s no footage. If you will excuse me.”
“Call me in the morning, when you’re out—or sooner, if there are any problems.”
“Yes, sir.”
Antoine took a last look around and sighed. His gaze flicked over Nico’s corpse like it was a hole in the carpet. Then he held out his hand. “Come, ma chérie. It is time to leave this place.”
“Is there nothing you want to take?” she asked, slipping her hand into his.
He hooked the bag from her shoulder, looping it around his. “It is all just material possessions, and replaceable.” He pulled her against him, sliding his arm around her waist. “The one thing I want, I have here.”
She smiled, pressing her hand to his chest. “Am I your possession too?”
“As much as I am yours.”
“Quite a lot, then.”
He picked her up in his arms, zipping through the house in a blur of speed, her stomach left behind. But she’d grown used to the sensation and tucked her head in against his neck, not wanting to see the thrall corpses in the hallway.
Antoine took the stairs up to the top floor, where he paused. “So this is how Nico got in.”
The skylight had been smashed open, shattered glass covering the floor of the room below and crunching under his boots as he carried her up to the roof.
There he stopped, the cold night air making her shiver and cling to him more.
Beneath them, the yard looked like a giant had walked through, tearing up the lawn.
Bodies lay everywhere. Strobing blue lights marked the police presence, and they’d moved closer.
Two squad cars were directly outside the house, and nervous-looking cops held weapons as they approached. They didn’t look up.
“Almost a century here,” Antoine said nostalgically.
“I’m sorry.”
“Ah, well.” He turned to her. “Come, it is time to leave. I will take you to my other house. It is not as grand as this one, but in truth, before I met you, I spent far more time there.” He leaped into the night, shadows trailing around them both, the cold biting through her thin clothing.
She curled into his warmth, stole a look back at the house—walls shattered, windows gaping—and knew he’d never return.
“It will just be the two of us,” he continued, “which will be a nice change. In fairness, I think Marcel has enjoyed having so many guests. I worry about him most of all.”
“Do you think he’ll be all right? With the police?”
“If he’s not out by mid-morning, I will contact the mayor and call in all the favors he owes me.” He landed on the roof of someone’s house, took two quick steps, and leaped again.
The wind whistled past, and she shivered in his arms.
Antoine noticed immediately. “You are cold.”
“You’re warm enough, as always, but I wish we’d stopped for my coat.”
“You are right, we should’ve.”
“With the police arriving at any moment, there wasn’t really time.” She pressed herself closer, seeking the heat of his body. “Is it just me, or are you traveling faster than you used to?”
He chuckled low, and she felt it reverberate through his chest. “Your fault, ma chérie. I am more powerful with every passing day, thanks to your blood.”
Yet still not powerful enough to fight Roberto.
How strong would he need to be? And how powerful was their enemy? For she was in no doubt: Roberto was as much her enemy as Antoine’s.
“Nico wanted to take me alive, and bring me to Roberto. He called me a witch.”
Antoine stumbled as he landed on the next building, his brow furrowing as he looked down at her.
“That is… concerning. But, on reflection, not all that surprising. It explains how he returned so quickly from the Order’s cell.
” He tsked. “I was a fool not to anticipate it.” He leaped again, the sharp acceleration stealing her breath.
“If Gabe is correct—and I believe he is—then it follows both Nico and Tobias are Roberto’s spawns. ”
“Spawn,” Cally muttered into his chest.
“What?”
“You always say ‘spawns’. It’s a collective noun.”
He stared at her. “We were discussing the most powerful vampire in Boston, and his interest in taking you away from me. But of course you’re right—the correct use of English is the priority here.”