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Crystal caught her breath as she crawled forward, joining the others on the other side of her most recent tear into space. Her head spun, and she had to shake her head to dislodge the stars before her eyes.
Crouching, she put her hands over her knees and took a few deep, shuddering breaths as she rose. Never had she used her power so often in such a short time. The effort was wearing on her. This last fissure had only reached scarcely over two feet tall, and the walls wavered, dangerously ready to collapse. Vivian, Michael, DB, and Harmony had been elected to hustle through—and her, of course, so the others had a way back to the mall, where Lukas and Megan waited. Lukas was too large to make it through the small opening, and Megan had elected to stay with him until they came back.
Her sister laid a hand on her arm. “Are you all right?” she asked.
Crystal forced a smile that she hoped didn’t strike Harmony as too false. “I’ll make it,” she said.
She pushed off her knees and stood, taking in their surroundings. A small room, dark, cluttered, with a thin layer of dust. Velvet art on the wall, psychedelic shapes that made her unsteady eyes water—or maybe it was the thick smell of incense. What was that fragrance? Patchouli? Sandalwood? She took a deep breath and let it out. Whatever it was, the odor was overwhelming. Nice, but overwhelming. Colorful blankets covered cushy seats. A bushy yellow plant stood in the corner, adding a massive bouffant for the head carved into the stone vase. If Crystal had to coin an expression to describe their surroundings, African beatnik seemed accurate.
“Where are we?” DB asked, taking a cautious step forward. He stared at a golden clock under a jar that stood like a skyscraper among perhaps twenty small, hand-carved figures atop a chest of drawers. The clock gears spun in a hypnotic, liquid movement. He pointed a finger at the glass, but drew back before touching the strange instrument, as if he thought the contact would trigger an attack from the surrounding figurines.
“Right back where we started,” Harmony said with a shudder, probably remembering the dark force that had driven them away only a couple of hours before.
Vivian nodded. “We can’t stay long. Only long enough to find Bully and get him caught up—”
“Caught up on what?” a deep voice asked. “Or should I say in what?” The sound of clattering beads drew Crystal’s gaze to her left, where a massive dark-skinned man emerged as if through one of her holes in space. A colorful beaded curtain parted in his midst, and he strode to the chest of drawers before DB, checking to see if the contents had been disturbed. DB’s eyes swelled at Bully’s size, but Bully flashed the younger man a sly grin, and DB returned it.
“Nice entrance,” Bully said to Crystal. “That’s an impressive skill you’ve got.”
“Bully, these are our friends Crystal and DB,” Vivian said. “You’ve seen what she can do. He’s—”
Bully lifted a hand, palm extended, toward Vivian. “Shh, hold on. Lemme get extra protection going before we chat.” He withdrew a tall, black, tapered candle from the top drawer, rubbed it with an amber-colored oil, and set it inside a brass candleholder. Lifting a pack of matches from the dresser top, he discovered it empty and made a noise of frustration. Patting his pockets, he mumbled to himself.
Crystal watched in amusement as DB sent a pencil-thin stream of flame from his lips to the wick, igniting it easily without melting more than a drop of wax. This time, it was Bully’s eyes that grew.
“Bully,” Vivian said again, “This is our friend Dorian Bradley. DB. He’s—”
“A torch tongue,” Bully said, his voice thick with awe. “You can control the fire spirit! I’ve heard of men and women who could, but I’ve never met one.” His face lit up, his broad, straight smile impossibly large.
“He needs to stay with you for a while,” Vivian said. “I don’t have long to explain.”
“Dark forces at work,” Bully said with a nod. “This whole town is crackling with it. I can’t get any sleep.”
“I need to ask you a favor,” Vivian said. “Can you do a spell that would help you find other unusual people? Others like DB and you and Crystal? And can you try to gather as many as possible together?”
Bully grinned. “No problem. I’ve got a great compass incantation. Should do the trick.”
Vivian gave a curt nod. “DB, can you inform Bully of our plans? I hate to drop that responsibility on you so fast, but we’ve got to go. There are vampires who need our help.”
“Go,” Bully said, shooing her with hands as large as cast iron frying pans. “Go save the world. It’s what you do.”
––––––––
“WE SHOULD CALL THEM,” Lukas said, turning on his heel for the three dozenth time in the past three minutes.
“Give them a minute, will you?” Megan said. “They should be back any second.”
She was right. A drop-off was never as cut-and-dry as the expression sounded. There were curt explanations to add, hasty goodbyes to be said, and Lord knew what else. Lukas frowned.
Since Crystal had dropped the bomb about the vampires corralled back home, he’d longed to help his friends. Waiting a few moments was like inviting their death. The Tribe members had their orders; surely, the vampires in Savannah hadn’t long to live.
He longed to bury himself in Megan’s arms and sit with her atop the luggage. They’d lay in their understanding silence, and she’d run her hands through his hair and stroke out the worries with that soothing way she had. Maybe he’d surprise her with a deep kiss, the kind she loved and responded to so well, and she’d wrap her legs around him, draw him close...
But as the mental movie played in his mind, stirring him, he sensed that the time wasn’t right; the tension of recent incidents smothered their usual ardor.
Why was the Source being so vague lately? It was getting on his nerves. Their friends back home were being tortured, and he and Megan waited here. He was a direct descendant of Cartephilus—his power was pretty significant. He wanted to act, move, and fight. Instead, he paced. Helpless. He hated having his future hinging on the whim of this force which, up to this point, hadn’t done much but hand them vague clues and semi-coherent directions.
Megan reached for him and then dropped her hand, giving him a look that was an irritating combination of understanding and commiseration. He stifled the irritation; none of this was her fault. She was his strength, the person keeping him from bouncing from wall to wall in aggravation.
He glanced at the broad watch encircling his wrist and adjusted his butt on the tallest suitcase. His father, Vivian, and their new friends and only been gone for four minutes, but it seemed longer. How long until the sun reached the pinnacle?
A yawn reached his lips, and he gave in, stretching, a bear rising from hibernation. As he lengthened, Megan’s blue-gold eyes shot a lusty look at his exposed abdomen. He grinned, unable to disguise his pleasure at her admiration.
“There’s a vending machine around the corner,” he said. “I could use a drink. Want one?”
Megan stood. “I’ll come too.” Not wanting to be apart. Understandable, given the situation. Truthfully, he was grateful for her company, even if the trip was only a few yards.
They crossed the corridor and turned right at the corner, passing an office with a glass door (Donald Strybecki, Mall Manager) and another unmarked room. The floors smelled overwhelmingly of pine cleaner.
Lukas trailed Megan by about two steps as she sauntered to the machines at the end of the hall, gracing the beige cinderblock walls with an occasional tap.
“Stop that,” she said.
“Stop what?”
“Looking at my ass.”
Lukas chuckled as she shoved open the door to the room that housed the vending machines and momentarily disappeared from view. “What are you, psychic? Or just vain?”
A muffled scream cut any further rejoinder. Lukas barely had time for the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up before he rushed into the room. A hulking mass of leather-clad vampire loomed, his head brushing the low ceiling. Under one arm, Megan wriggled like a cat on methamphetamines.
At six foot eleven inches tall, Lukas didn’t have experience at looking anyone in the eye before—much less looking up. This man was the first to have that dubious privilege. A black handkerchief with skulls and crossbones covered most of his hair. The dun-colored sideburns that poked out from underneath reached the edge of his flushed jowls. Two narrow slits couldn’t hide the brilliant green eyes within them. Despite their comparable height, the vampire who held Megan in his clutches had at least eighty pounds on Lukas, mostly muscle.
Lukas’s experience in self-defense was limited to a single fight against Jude—a one-sided exercise in panic that would have failed, had not a miracle intervened, disabling his opponent. Now he froze, doubt and surprise rendering him immobile. Try as he might to think of a way to attack the man who’d seized his lover, his mind refused to cooperate.
The immense creature snatched Lukas up with ease with his free, baseball-mitt-sized hand.
Oh, God, I will die if anything happens to her! Lukas swung his hands and struck, but the unyielding monster holding him didn’t flinch or blink. Lukas squirmed and fought, but the giant’s grip only tightened, crushing Lukas to his side like a vise. His lungs, unable to fill to half capacity, gulped and gasped for breath fruitlessly.
We’re descended from Jude Shepherd, Lukas thought. He shouldn’t be a match for us. How can he do this?
“Stop your bullshit, or I flatten the redhead like roadkill,” the beast growled. Lukas went stiff as a mannequin, his eyes slitted with anger and his jaw clenched.
With one broad step, their captor cleared the distance to the door. He kicked the glass out rather than open it, balancing his hostages easily in a fierce hold as he removed a few tinkling pieces of glass with his boot. In two more steps, he cleared the threshold and dragged them down the hall, then turned the corner to the double doors at the end.
He kicked the door open, effectively disintegrating the deadbolt and bending the metal center beam. Then, pulling Lukas and Megan like large dolls, they were in the light.
Massive leathery, black wings unfurled from holes in a black vest designed to ease metamorphosis. Lukas tried to feign a startled jerk from the creature’s grip, but it was as if iron bands encircled his arms and torso.
“I’ve been working out,” his deep voice said. Although Lukas saw no reason for the creature to do so, he believed him.
The enormous vampire made no running start, but lurched into the sky like a live bottle rocket.
Leather vest. Engineer boots. Massive vamp who carried those he kidnaps like carry-on luggage.
“Krieg,” Lukas murmured. The sound came out garbled by the spit in his throat that he couldn’t swallow.
Krieg smiled, exposing his bright, white, elongated eyeteeth.
“Ah, you’ve heard of me.”
Megan, who’d cut her struggle short once they’d taken flight, said, “There’s no such thing as giants. What are you?”
Krieg smirked. “Don’t be too sure, little one,” he said. “You’re about to learn there’s more to this world than you’d ever dreamed. Of course, I don’t suspect you’ll live long enough to tell anyone.”
