Page 39 of Blood & Ice

“Run!” I screamed.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Astrid

Maverick wasfast.

Don’t ask me how the big lug did it. I knew he hadn’t actually used my magic to open a doorway into autumn to escape, but you wouldn’t have known it from the way he moved. I think he must have lunged forward, moving the way he expected his lean, six and half foot plus height to move in a similar situation. It took advantage of all the new vampire strength and speed my body possessed without any of my awkwardness or caution. Maverick was essentially Tally’s unsanctioned bounty hunter, and he moved like it.

It was bizarre to be present in my body but not actually in control of it, as though I had a case of whole-body pins and needles. It was uncomfortable, and just to the side of pain. I had a bad feeling there wasn’t enough room in my head for meandMav. One of us would have to go at some point. I just hoped the rubber band didn’t snap back to his side of the equation at the worst possible second.

Getting confirmation of Aunt Celestine’s wild conspiracy theories hadn’t been on my bingo card for this trip. It was turning out to be a red-letter day all around. When she’d started spouting nonsense, I’d thought she’d finally lost it and was spewing lies to justify the cruel actions she’d undertaken in the name of this centuries-old plot. It hadn’t crossed my mind to talk to Maverick or Wanda about it. I knew neither one would approve of my interacting with the old witch any more than was humanly necessary. Maybe it was a fault of character, but I pitied her, just a little, despite what she’d done to me. So much hate, for so little reason.

Except, apparently, therehadbeen a reason. Therehadbeen an existential threat to witches everywhere. It just wasn’t comingfrom your garden-variety vampire. It was an older, more magical version trapped in his own dimension. That was if Celestine was to be believed. Which was a hugeifin my book. The being considered itself male and would always chase male bodies. It was why Celestine had had so many warlocks bumped off. He couldn’t work with a non-magic vessel.

It felt like I had an eternity to ponder the problem. In reality, the fight was happening much faster than I could track. Maverick seemed to feel, rather than see, the dolls move in the dark, their pale limbs coming into sight seconds after he’d guided my body down into a baseball-worthy slide. Since Rook still had a grip on me, it dragged him down with me.

The stones split my pantyhose like a cheap plastic bag and stripped layers of skin off my outer thigh. The pain came to me distantly, as though being filtered through a distortion filter. It definitely hurt, but not as much as it should.

Rook had it worse than I did. He hit at a bad angle, and something snapped. He hissed a curse, stumbling to his feet as we cleared a line of advancing dolls. They were even creepier up close. Morgana wasn’t much of an artist. The doll’s features looked sloppy. Or maybe she just didn’t want to put effort into something intended to be smashed up and discarded once it had done what it was meant to do. I hadn’t even seen her yet. And there was no guarantee she’d be in the head librarian’s office operating the sound system. She had to be nearby to be piloting these constructs, but destroying them didn’t actually end the threat. It only delayed it.

“How do we beat her?” I asked.

Maverick was silent, which was an answer in and of itself. He wasn’t sure wecouldbeat Morgana. She’d nearly killed us both last time, and she’d been an ordinary witch then. With tainted magic and a link to an otherworldly sponsor, she was a nightmare stalking the night in stylish stiletto heels.

Maverick ducked low again, avoiding another swinging arm. I had a feeling getting clubbed over the head by one of those things was going to feel like having a vase dropped on my head. It probably wouldn’t kill me, but it might daze me enough for them to go in with their teeth. Seriously, why had Morgana addedfangsto these things?

I hoped Vivian hadn’t suffered long. If she’d gone out the way I had, running and eventually being captured, beaten, and eventually killed by these things, I’d never be able to think an unkind thought about her again. No one deserved to die the way she had.

Rook finally found his footing and pulled ahead of Maverick and me, face gone ashen with fright. Good to know I wasn’t the only one spooked. I might have felt like a wuss at this whole combat thing. I’d never been in a real, life-or-death battle until our last fight at Blood Rose. If this place wasn’t careful, I’d end up becoming a warrior queen out of necessity, not inclination.

“What did she mean, Father’s her sire?” Rook panted.

Oh, goodie. He hadn’t understood the speech in the library. Sometimes men being slow was endearing. At times like these though, it was a waste of time that could be used smashing things.

“Your father—he blooded her—he blooded Morgana,” I said, hoping that restating it might make Rook accept it. “I’m sure he thought he was helping her, but he shouldn’t have done it. Mav says that he was apparently playing house with her for months, giving her gifts and things.”

I’d liked Abraham Thorne when I first met him. He seemed like a standup vampire, despite his past history. Now, it was hard to think the name without tasting bile at the back of my throat. He’d seemed so kind. But could a kindly man give his blood to someone he knew damn well would rather die than take it? What delusion had possessed him so thoroughly that he’dcompletely eschewed common sense and given more power to the unstable witch? Did he really think keeping her under wraps would make her like him more? I didn’t know.

Rook shook his head, even as he ran. I didn’t think he was arguing with us, exactly. More that he couldn’t absorb what we were saying. I understood it. If someone had come to me and told me that Aunt Celestine was actually trying to do the right thing, I would have laughed them out of town. Rook loved his dad. Learning he’d done something this awful to someone already suffering wouldn’t compute for a while.

“We don’t have time to baby him,” Maverick reminded me.

He flicked my fingers toward an oncoming doll, reaching for my magic. It wasn’t the first time someone had put their psychic mitts on me. The last time it had been Morgana, using my power as a battery to prolong her spell’s lifespan. She’d just been an ordinary witch then, and the mix of faerie magic and her natural ability had short-circuited a hallway full of wards.

This time, a blood warlock reached for a vampire-faerie hybrid in a castle full of arcane warding spells. And, well... I’d seen what that mix could do once before, when it had befallen my cousin, blowing out her front window. It had been a relatively minor ward guarding Wanda’s shop. But this hallway was wired top to bottom with Grimsbane wards.

Maverick flung his hex at the first doll to leap for Rook’s face. And the hallwayexploded.The sound was almost deafening and stopped us in our tracks as I closed my eyes against the heat of the room blowing out in all directions.

***

When the smoke cleared, the teachers found us under the rubble, surrounded by shards of the porcelain dolls, broken wards, and the wreckage of priceless art.

Maverick had disappeared from my head, evaporating likemist after sunrise. I prayed to the goddess that he’d snapped back to whatever curse he’d been under. Prayed that he was still alive.

But something told me I couldn’t get that lucky twice in one night.

Chapter Twenty-Three

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