Page 89 of Twilight Destiny

“Aren’t you going after him? Jake’s been there too long already.”

“All in good time.” Saintcrow looked at Rhinehart. “Tell me about Luca’s house. Where’s he likely to keep Kincaid?”

“Probably in the basement. He has a couple of holding cells down there, a few ancient instruments of torture, including a working guillotine.”

Rosa felt the blood drain from her face. “A guillotine?”

Rhinehart nodded.

“I need to figure out how to get into the house,” Saintcrow said. “One thing for sure, he’s not going to invite me inside. Even if you could sneak in, that wouldn’t do me any good. I need Luca to invite me in and he’s not going to do that.”

Rhinehart stared at him. “So we’re at a stalemate.”

“Not exactly. You need to get him outside,” Saintcrow said.

“How am I supposed to do that?”

“I don’t know. But we wouldn’t be in this fix if you hadn’t told Luca about Kincaid.”

“Hey, I didn’t know he was after Kincaid until I inadvertently mentioned his name. Until then, the only head he was after was yours. Hell, none of that matters now. My family was at risk and I did what I had to.”

Saintcrow nodded. “It was your choice to save them. Now I’m making the choice to go after Kincaid. And you’re going with me, willingly or not. But you’re going. Just as soon as we can come up with a plan that has a chance of working.”

“I’m going, too,” Rosa said.

“Like hell,” Saintcrow said. “Kincaid will havemyhead if anything happens to you.”

“Assuming any of us survive,” Rhinehart muttered.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Kincaid stared at the witch. He had lost all track of time, had no idea if it was morning or night, if he had been in the witch’s power a day or a week. He was aware of nothing but the excruciating pain that clawed at his vitals and spread outward to every inch of his body, a cold, relentless agony. There was no respite, even when he was lost in the Dark Sleep of his kind.

The witch, sadistic monster that he was, had hung a bag of fresh blood from the bar above his head. The smell of it drove him wild, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t reach it.

Luca grinned at him. Malevolence and satisfaction rolled off the man in waves. He came down to the cellar every hour, stood beside the cage, a faint smile creasing his weathered face as he watched his prisoner writhe in endless torment.

“Do you see, Katya?” the witch murmured. “Do you see his agony? Can you feel it? I swore on my life that I would avenge you, my best beloved one. Soon, I will take his head and your soul will be able to rest in peace.”

With a last, triumphant glance at his prisoner, the necromancer snapped his fingers and disappeared.

Kincaid let out a long, anguished sigh as he summoned Rosa’s image, wishing he could hold her in his arms one last time, taste the sweetness of her kisses, hear the sound of her voice. “Rosa. Rosa.” He murmured her name like a prayer as he closed his eyes and wished for death.

Rosa bolted upright in the chair, her eyes wild as she glanced around the room. Rhinehart was dozing in a recliner. Saintcrow sat on the sofa, long legs stretched out in front of him. She frowned when she looked out the window. The sun was up. How long had she been asleep?

“What is it?” Saintcrow asked, though his eyes remained closed.

“Jake. He’s calling my name. He’s in agony. We have go to him now, before it’s too late!” Maybe it was already too late, she thought. The witch could be killing him an inch at a time while they sat around doing nothing. “We’ve got to do something!” They had stayed up all night trying to come up with a workable plan. Saintcrow had shot them all down.

“As soon as we come up with an idea that has a chance in hell of working, we’ll be on our way,” Saintcrow said mildly. “But not until then.”

Rosa stared at him. How could he be so callous? “I don’t care about a plan!” she exclaimed. “Rhinehart and I can sneak into Luca’s house.”

“Yeah?” Saintcrow snorted derisively. “How do you intend to do that? The place is heavily warded against intruders of every stripe. And what are you going to do on the off chance you make it inside alive?”

“I don’t know. But we can’t just sit here staring at the walls.” She told herself Jake couldn’t be dead. She would feel it if he were.

Saintcrow swore softly. She was right. They couldn’t wait much longer. Last night, they had stayed up to the wee hours of the morning suggesting and rejecting ideas. Rhinehart had proposed setting the house on fire, an idea Saintcrow had quicky rejected. Vampires were hard to destroy, but fire was one sure way to do it. He had considered challenging the witch to a fight, but it was doubtful Luca would agree. The witch had nothing to gain and everything to lose.

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