“Who are you?” Estelle tried to stand but the zip ties held her back. Another series of strange vibrations shook the room. She’d been feeling them for the last few minutes and wondering what the hell was going on. It sounded like gunfire.
“Estelle. It’s me.”
It certainly sounded like Stephan, well, Stephan as Chad the maintenance guy, but she shook her head. “Prove it.”
“We really don’t have time for this.” He looked at Felix, now passed out on the cot from the pain of his arm. “What happened?”
“Madden broke his arm.” Vampires were quick healers, but Felix had fallen with the arm twisted. If they couldn’t get him help soon, it would heal like that and have to be re-broken.
Stephan only grunted as he checked the ties. With a quick motion, he pulled out his knife and broke them open. Estelle grimaced as the blood came rushing back to her hands in a flood of pins and needles. “Time to leave.”
She stood her ground. She wanted out, but what if that was another masquerada in front of her, trying to use her? “I said prove it.”
He masqued back, growing taller and wider and his skin darkening until he was the usual Stephan.
“This still means nothing,” she pointed out. “You’re a masquerada.”
“You like to be kissed behind the knees.”
She went bright red. “You could have used another example.”
“Do you believe it’s me?”
It was him. “What’s going on?”
He shrugged but Estelle’s attention was caught by the shadow that appeared at the door.
“It’s an attack,” said Madden calmly. “Your little lithu deputy appears to have issues with impulse control.”
Stephan swung around, knife in hand, but Estelle cried out to stop him when she saw Madden pointing a gun at Felix, unconscious on the cot. Madden gave her a wolfish smile, then, without taking his gaze off her, held up his hand to Stephan.
“Put it down, shifter.” He paused. “In fact, throw it out the door. Then lay on the ground. Arms and legs spread wide.”
Stephan responded immediately and sent the knife clattering to the ground before lowering himself down. Estelle tried not to tense. Stephan was fast and strong, but he was in a vulnerable position. She’d seen how he’d been favoring his arm as well. He was injured.
“We’re going to move you,” said Madden. “At least, two of you. One of you we don’t need.”
Which one? Stephan? Estelle kept her face lowered, trying not to antagonize Madden, whose fangs were at full extension. He was jumpy and nervous men made mistakes. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Stephan move slightly. No, not moving. He was shifting. Into what? Stay down. Let me deal with this. When his shift was complete, Stephan’s legs were shorter and his body heavily muscled, with the toes tucked very slightly under, and his right hand spread, the fingers slightly tented. He was ready to spring. Madden hadn’t noticed. His attention was on her but he was distracted. By what? Not Felix.
She saw now Madden had guns at his hip and in shoulder holsters that he would have no qualms using. She was under no illusions that he was as fast as she. With his training, he almost matched her in psychic power. She knew he outstripped her in physical strength.
He was also alone. Where was Yangzei?
Yangzei. Upstairs the other day, Madden had called him Lord.
Yangzei was a masquerada. She flipped through options at lightning speed before deciding it might work. If Yangzei, or a ghost of him, could be in Gustav’s head, could she pretend he was in hers?
Only one way to find out.
* * * *
When Estelle groaned and clasped her head, Stephan readied himself to tackle Madden. His neck ached from how he’d been lying on the floor, head canted up very slightly so he could see what Madden was doing, or more specifically, Madden’s gun, which was currently trained on Felix. As she slowly crumpled to the floor, she spoke in Chinese.
It was enough. Madden swung the gun around to her. “Lord?” He breathed the word. “Did you…how did you…it worked?”
Stephan leapt for the gun, managing to knock it away so it fired into the wall instead of into Estelle. Small concrete chunks dropped to the floor. Madden slashed the weapon down against Stephan’s injured arm, hard. He bit back the howl of agony but couldn’t prevent his legs from collapsing and he went down, dizzy with the pain. Even as he dropped, he kicked out, connecting with one of Madden’s knees. The vampire fell down on top of him.
Then they were on the floor, grappling. Stephan lunged forward to try and knock the gun out of Madden’s hand. A shot rang out before Stephan could grasp his wrist with his good hand and slam it down onto the concrete floor, once, twice. The third time, the gun dropped. The vampire reached for his other gun, and Stephan rolled on top of him as the two fought for dominance. Estelle screamed in the background, but his entire attention was on defeating Madden.
Sensing a weakness, Madden focused on Stephan’s injured arm, ramming his head into his shoulder and then ripping into his flesh with his fangs. Blood gushed out, hot and slippery, causing Stephan to lose his grip. In a flash, Madden was on top of him, gripping his head and ready to slam it down. Stephan tried to buck him off but Madden was too heavy.
Then Madden’s head rocked forward. Estelle stood behind him, concrete chunk in her hand. She dropped it and dipped down Madden’s side for the gun.
A shot ripped through the air and Stephan watched as Madden’s eyes turned glassy.
Estelle pulled Madden off and threw him into the wall.
“One more time for good luck.” She shot him through his left eye. “This time, he’s going to stay dead,” she muttered.
Stephan hauled himself to a sitting position as Estelle checked Madden for life. Satisfied he was dead, she said, “Check his pockets.”
Before he could reply, she was back at Felix’s side. Blood splattered the wall behind the cot.
Madden’s rogue shot had found a target. Stephan leapt to his feet. “How bad?”
Estelle tied a pad in place with part of her shredded shirt. “Alive but in bad shape. Bullet got him in the upper chest and I think it nicked the lung. We need out now. Between the arm and this, he needs immediate medical care.”
“At least help is nearby.” Stephan turned back to Madden’s body, refrained from giving it a kick, and hunted through the clothes until he found a phone, as well as a wallet and set of keys. He tossed the phone to Estelle and pocketed the rest along with the last two guns. He tried to hide the grimace he felt twisting his face. The arm Madden had sliced with his fangs was almost numb and he couldn’t move it.
She checked the phone. “No reception. Can you walk? It sounds like there’s some heavy fighting. I don’t want to risk getting caught down here.”
He nodded. “I’m fine but I can’t carry Felix.”
“I’ve got him.” She pulled her brother up and into an effortless fireman’s hold, making sure to keep pressure on the bullet wound. Stephan saw the awkward angle of Felix’s arm and leaned in to check on him. At least the man was breathing, labored though it sounded.
Stephan led the way into the hall, wondering if it would be better go to the way they came. He hesitated and a door slammed at the other end of the hall, a hard, echoing noise against the concrete. The harsh white lights flickered overhead. Estelle bent carefully and lowered her brother down to prop him against the wall. She stepped to Stephan’s side.
“What are you doing?” he hissed.
Her hands were already raised in front of her hips, wrists flexed. “Can’t you feel it?”
Feel it? The slight pressure that he’d attributed to stress flared into a supernova of pain. He recognized the hand behind it. “Yangzei.” The author of his recent nightmares. As if in recognition, the voices of the multitude rose in a chorus, their habitual sadness now lifted by hate.
“Yes.”
He stared down the end of the hall. There, silhouetted against the wall, was the familiar figure of the masquerada Ancient.
Beside him stood Tom.
* * * *
Estelle saw Tom at the exact moment she heard Stephan’s harsh inhale. Malevolence rippled from the end of the hall, the evil she remembered from Yangzei, but expanded and much, much stronger.
“Tom,” called Stephan.
Tom said nothing and didn’t move as Stephan stepped toward him. Nor did Yangzei, though a slight smile creased his face.
Estelle’s mind rapidly ticked through their situation. A gurgling cough came from behind her. She had Felix—who was the whole damn reason for this entire mission—and he needed help, now. She knew that noise. He was drowning in his own blood.
But Tom was in front of them with their ultimate enemy. They had an opportunity to strike a lethal blow to the Dawning, right now. She pulled out the gun and aimed. Stephan didn’t even turn around. “Put it down, Estelle.”
“Are you crazy?”
“They’re masquerada. Do you know who you’re shooting?”
She lowered the gun. He was right and her vision of a quick victory evaporated. Stephan took another step forward, hand outstretched and Estelle did her best not to yank him back. What was he doing? They weren’t wild dogs to be placated. He twisted slightly so she could see his profile. Stephan looked almost distracted, as if he was listening to someone.
Tom then moved, his gait longer and quicker than she remembered, until he was only ten meters away. Yangzei followed with his head cocked very slightly to the side, a strangely coy attitude.
“Hello, Stephan,” said Yangzei. “You were looking for your friend, I believe.”
“I was, but I want the real Tom. Take on your own masque.”
“Not everyone feels the need to play the trickster all the time.” Yangzei gave them a deep look before glancing down to Felix. “Taking our guest? Shall I provide a coffin?”
Estelle did her best not to look at Felix. She knew his breathing had slowed but he was alive. She checked the phone. No reception. They had to handle this on their own.
“Give me back Tom,” Stephan said.
Yangzei’s expression turned grave. “No.”
“Grab him,” murmured Estelle. “We need to go.” She could hear the faint shouts from above. Were they struggling their way in? Were they winning? Those were her people up there. She should be fighting with her troops, leading them the way she was supposed to, instead of being down here as Stephan attempted to argue with an Ancient. What the hell was Agata doing? Why had she called an attack? How had she known they were here?
Finally, a door clanged. “Clear!” It was Agata, leading the team. Of course.
“Here!” she shouted.
A man swore and she heard more gunfire. Shit.
“Stephan. Come with me. We need to go.”
He didn’t even turn around. “Estelle, take Felix and go. I’m getting Tom.” His voice was low and intent.
“You don’t think—” Before Yangzei finished the sentence, Stephan crossed the space between them and delivered a punch that rocked Tom back on his feet. Tom? Blood splattered from his nose to the wall. The speed of the attack caught Estelle by surprise and for a moment all she felt was anger that he hadn’t warned her.
She squinted. The men had moved places…wait. No, they hadn’t. Stephan had been right. The man who looked like Tom was Yangzei, blood streaming from his nose. Tom himself stood where Yangzei had been, blinking his eyes like a man waking from a dream.
Then she stopped in horror. Stephan was staring at his good arm, where Yangzei’s hands—the real Yangzei—grasped his wrist. The Ancient didn’t twist or break but simply held his ground.
Then Stephan changed, becoming leaner. His skin lightened and his hair straightened. Estelle recognized Yangzei’s expression on Stephan’s face before she even knew what she was seeing. She acted without thinking, running forward and slamming her hand down on Yangzei’s to break the contact. Stephan stumbled back. To the side, Tom began to shake, his eyes rolling back in his head. What pressure was he under? They had to get out. Felix was dying. They had Tom. She pulled the gun out again. They knew it was Yangzei now. There was no reason to delay. He’d caused enough damage that Estelle felt no need to bring him to trial. She would happily be judge and executioner.
The Ancient’s motions were fluid as he moved behind a stunned Stephan, effectively blocking her. “Am I worth both of us?” he taunted. Stephan was ashen, and shaking.
“Estelle!” The shout was louder now. “We’re under attack.”
There was no time to waste. Estelle slowed her breath as she’d been taught, letting the options roll through her mind. Throw down the gun and negotiate. Shoot Stephan in the leg, forcing him to collapse, then get Yangzei.
Break her promise to Stephan. She could get him out of the way then shoot Yangzei.
None of them were perfect but the last had the best chance of success. Stephan’s trust over ending the war?
This made her freeze completely.
What would Cressida do?
Felix gave a soft, wheezing sigh.
Tom trembled and clutched the wall.
Yangzei’s arm slid around Stephan’s neck.
She made her choice.
Estelle shoved her mind out, her compulsion almost a physical thing as it wrapped around Stephan and burrowed into his mind, breaking down his barriers with the mental equivalent of a hurricane. In seconds, she had control over him and forced him to his knees. Stephan’s entire body shuddered in protest, but he obeyed as she aimed and took the shot that would kill Yangzei and bring them closer to the end of the Dawning.
Or it would have, had she not missed.
“Estelle!” Agata appeared at the end of the corridor, bristling with weapons. Her voice resounded down the cement hall.
Yangzei didn’t wait. He turned and disappeared down the hall as Estelle shouted orders. Get Felix. Get Tom. Get a team after Yangzei, shoot to kill. Don’t let him touch you. Go! Go!
The team scattered. Hands shaking with fury at her failure, Estelle picked up Felix and followed Agata, who held Tom, up the stairs. She directed Stephan to follow behind them, refusing to release her control over him until they were safely out. There were two bodies slumped at the top of the stairwell, but now there was silence. The fighting was over.
When they were in the lobby she released Stephan. He was going to be angry and she accepted that. He’d understand when she explained why she’d needed to break her promise. It had been worth it for the chance to kill Yangzei.
“He had you under control anyway,” she began. “I had no—”
He didn’t let her finish, but stepped away as if she was contagious.
Then, without saying a word, or looking at her in the eye, he left.