"But you didn't kill him. I did."
Asim laughed. “Who would believe that? Jabril had Mirabelle, but I shall have Elizabeth.” He shifted his gaze to her and it hardened. “And you too, my dear.” He licked his lips as if savoring the taste of her blood. “My personal harem."
She wasn't even surprised. “That wasn't our deal,” she reminded him gently.
"No, I suppose not,” he agreed. “Perhaps I'll trade you back to Raphael eventually. In return for his support.” He shifted Elizabeth in his arms and jerked his head toward Cyn. “Come along now. We'll leave these others for the sun.” He turned and walked toward the waiting limo.
Cyn took two steps behind him, drew the second gun and fired. Three shots to the back of his head. Bam, bam, bam. She took care to angle the barrel up and away from where he was carrying Liz against his thin chest, but couldn't help the spray of blood and gore as the vampire's head blew apart. “Think again, asshole,” she hissed.
The nascent vampire lord crumpled to the ground, dropping Elizabeth and falling on top of her. Cyn stood looking down at him, breathing hard, almost unable to believe it had worked. With a jolt of fear, she remembered the other vampires and spun around, gun raised to shoot. But the shock of losing a second master in one night was too much for the already weakened vampires. Both lay senseless in the dirt.
Cyn drew a tired breath and wondered where she'd find the strength to finish tonight's work. She leaned forward, resting her hands on her knees, knowing if she sat, she'd never get up again. Finally, too weak to carry Elizabeth to the Land Rover, she dragged Asim's body away and over to the others, got a blanket from the back of the SUV and covered the unconscious girl where she lay. And then she forced herself to keep moving, to walk around the clearing and systematically place a bullet through the brain of every vampire there.
Back again to the Land Rover's cargo compartment, she flipped open yet another weapons’ case. This one was leather, butter soft and luxurious to the touch, with an elegant tooled design. Inside were four lightweight, machine-sanded wooden stakes, each tipped with a folded steel stabbing edge. They were beautiful and lethal, especially designed for her by a knife maker who'd taken pride in his product and etched intricate designs all around the band of each blade where it gripped the wood. It took strength to stab a wooden stake through a vampire's chest. The steel made it easier.
She stared at the stakes and then grabbed all four and went back to her gruesome task. A vampire wasn't dead if he still had a body. She wanted nothing but piles of dust on the desert floor.
A short time later, Cyn crouched next to what was left of her final victim, gun in one hand, stake in the other. All around her, piles of vampire dust began to shift softly as a cool wind blew in across the desert. As if danger followed the wind, the night turned suddenly darker and full of threat. She spun around. Beyond the narrow circle of light cast by the cars’ headlights, the shadows moved, wrapping the night around them and drawing closer. Cyn gripped her weapons tighter, her lip curling in a feral snarl.
The wind blew harder, buffeting the cars with its ferocity. Cyn's hair blew across her face, and she brushed it away with an impatient gesture, staring as a sable whirlwind appeared from the storm, blacker than the night around it, moving faster, sucking up the darkness as it approached. She stood and moved closer to where Liz lay helpless, her heart pounding, her mouth dry with fear.
The midnight wind blew between the cars. Cyn raised her gun. And the shadows fell away.
Juro moved first, placing himself between Raphael and the gun Cyn held in a shaky, one-handed grip. Raphael raised a hand and Juro stood aside.
"Lubimaya,” Raphael said sadly. “I'm sorry we're late."
Cyn blinked. Her arms fell to her sides, the weapons she'd wielded so effectively suddenly too heavy to hold. Her head drooped and she would have fallen, but Raphael caught her, cradling her in his arms as his vampires stared in disbelief at the damage one human woman had wrought.
Chapter Fifty-seven
Cyn heard the helicopter rotors winding down outside, as the doors closed and the elevator began to move. Raphael leaned against the wall, watching her silently. He hadn't said much since he'd found her amidst the piles of vampire dust in the desert. Not that there had been much opportunity. They'd driven back to Tucson, going directly to the airport. Raphael's personal physician was waiting for them there, and while he'd treated Liz, Cyn had time for a quick shower and a change of clothes. The clothes were Winona's and didn't fit her, but they were better than what she'd been wearing.
After a quick flight to Santa Monica and a helicopter ride out to Malibu, they'd arrived at the estate a little before dawn. Duncan and Juro had flown with them in the chopper, along with Dr. Saephan and Liz, but the rest of Raphael's team would be daylighting at the airport today. There wasn't time enough to see them all safely back to the Malibu estate. Some of Raphael's human guards were already on their way to secure the private hangar and watch over the sleeping vampires.
The elevator doors opened on Raphael's inner sanctum, and Cyn hurried out of the small box, shedding her borrowed jacket as she went. Candles scattered throughout the room flared to life as Raphael exerted his will, and she jumped, laughing at her own nervousness.
She couldn't seem to stand still and paced back and forth, her skin feeling too tight, her nerves jangling until she wanted to scream.
"Cyn,” Raphael said.
She stopped and stared at him. “He was waiting for us,” she said. “At the driving school. He knew we'd be there."
"Yes."
The single word was chock-full of information, but she was too tired to parse it all, and Raphael said nothing more.
She resumed her pacing and Raphael continued to watch silently. “Where's Liz?” she asked distractedly.
"Dr. Saephan is caring for her. His facilities here are quite modern and complete. She will wake and remember nothing."
Cyn paused to give him a hard look. “You'll wipe her memories?"
"Her memories will be wiped. Not by me personally, no. Cyn, it is important, vitally important, that no one know it was you who killed Jabril. The others don't matter, but Jabril..."
She crossed to stand in front of him. “Are you going to wipe my memories too?"
"No.” He seemed slightly affronted that she would ask.
"What about Lucia? She'll know something happened; she's not stupid."
"I'll leave that to you,” he said stiffly. “But Dr. Saephan has an excellent reputation in the local community, and she'll have no reason to doubt whatever he tells her. She's been informed that you and Elizabeth are both well and has been invited to visit later. If you wish, Duncan can ... speak to her."
"Speak to her,” Cyn repeated.
"Cyn.” It was a demand for understanding.
"Stop that,” she said.
"Stop what?"
"Stop looking at me as if you're waiting for the other shoe to drop."
"Is there another shoe?"
"No.” She drew a long, tired breath and walked into his arms, finally letting him pull her to rest against his chest, where she listened to the slow beat of his heart. “They tore him apart,” she whispered as her eyes filled with tears. “He was nothing but bloody pieces of meat. You couldn't even tell...” She swallowed hard. “They would have done the same to me.” His arms tightened around her, and she let her arms circle his waist. He was wearing a long, silken robe and nothing else. She didn't remember him changing.
"You're not wearing any clothes."
"It is nearly dawn, lubimaya.” The words were barely out of his mouth before she heard the solid sound of the vault closing around them. It was oddly comforting.
"I'm so tired,” she breathed.
Raphael kissed her forehead and helped her remove the rest of her clothing, all but carrying her to the big bed and tucking her beneath the covers. She turned into him when he slid in next to her. “Hold me."
"Forever, my Cyn."
Chapter Fifty-eight
Cyn leaned against the window behind Raphael's desk, feeling it vibrate with every wave that rolled in on the beach below. Raphael sat in front of her, watching impassively as Juro escorted Mirabelle into the room. Duncan entered next, one hand on Alexandra's elbow, as if he were escorting her into an elegant salon. Raphael stood, lingering long enough to trail one hand along Cyn's arm before making his way around the desk to face them. He positioned himself slightly to one side so that Cyn could see his face clearly.
Mirabelle didn't wait for the vampire lord to speak to her. She broke away from Juro and threw herself at Raphael's feet, burying her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with silent tears.
Raphael regarded her prostrate form somberly, before lifting his head to meet Alexandra's cool gaze from across the room. She raised her chin defiantly, black eyes flashing.
"Mirabelle,” Raphael said.
"My lord,” she cried, weeping so hard she could barely speak. “I would never betray you, Master! Never."
Raphael cocked his head quizzically. “Did I say you had, child?"
Mirabelle didn't look up from her submissive position, addressing her response to the carpet only inches from her face. “I heard the guards talking, my lord. I know someone called Jabril. But it wasn't me. I swear to you, my lord.” She did look up then, her blue eyes full of pain. “I did not betray you, Master. I would not!"
Cyn studied Mirabelle's face. She saw despair there, and loss, but no guilt, no fear of discovery. Mirabelle wasn't the traitor, she thought, and knew it was true.
Raphael's gaze shifted to Alexandra where she stood proud and haughty, supremely confident.
"Did I not warn you, Alexandra?” he asked. “Did you think I could forgive this?"
"I have no idea—"
"Silence.” It was a single word, spoken softly and without emotion. But Raphael's anger was a physical presence in the room, weighting the air like a storm about to break. “You forget, Alexandra, that I am more than our mother's son. I am your master. You have no secrets from me."
