Shattered Ashes (Dying Ashes Book 3) Read online

  Kitty was lashed to it, arms and legs bound securely by a roll’s worth of duct tape.

  As I watched, the beautiful, pale figure to one side of the prisoner lay a simple piece of gray metal against the bare skin of Kitty’s throat, right at her jugular. I could hear the woman’s pulse thud sharply in panic as smoke boiled from the wound, a scream tearing itself from her throat, her voice already ragged.

  What confused me even more was the fact that the torturer was no Sanguinarian. Instead, a ruffled, flowing, black-and-white dress revealed more than enough bare flesh to see that her skin was pale and nearly perfect, while her dark-rimmed eyes were a potent, liquid hazel.

  The well-dressed figure on Kitty’s other was side almost certainly a blood vampire, though. As was the dark-clad, masked figure lying face-down at Tamara’s feet, leaking their cloying lifeblood onto the flooring.

  “Stop it!” Tamara snapped, her angry eyes fixated on Kitty’s tormentor, holding out a hand to halt me. Tamara’s other hand was wrapped around her ribs, but I could hear the supernatural tone overlaying her voice, and could see the blood evaporating from her side as her skin sealed shut and her ribs set themselves back into place with dull pops and cracks. She’d be fine.

  Kitty, I was much less certain about.

  Smoke wound its way through the air as flesh seared and bubbled from simple contact with the metal. Kitty’s voice cracked and broke, shattered beneath the pain, tears dribbling from her icy blue eyes as she spasmed and strained against the stubborn tape.

  “I. Said. STOP,” Tamara demanded, her voice swollen with power. I felt my legs become lead weights, even with her intended target on the other side of the room.

  Calmly, the pale-skinned woman in the dress let the metal linger pointedly against Kitty’s vulnerable throat for a moment longer, as if to show off how completely unaffected she was by the supernatural demand. When she finally took the metal away, Kitty collapsed forward as much as her bindings would allow, panting in agony and desperation. I could smell the blood that welled to the surface of her seared flesh, glittering from the ruined caramel skin of her throat.

  “You’re my cousin,” Tamara said, her voice still crackling with barely restrained power. “Why are you doing this? Let her GO.”

  “My dear Tamara,” the other Moroi said, a dark sparkle of menace in her blazing hazel eyes, “why don’t you make me? You’re the prodigious daughter here, not I.”

  Tamara’s fists clenched tight; anger radiated off of my Moroi friend like heat waves. “Silvia, whatever you want from me, it has nothing to do with Kitty. Why not just—”

  “Shhhh…” I could feel my throat tighten as Silvia’s voice rocked the air with power of its own, similar to Tamara’s but subtly different in a way I couldn’t put my finger on. To my surprise, Tamara cut off mid-word; even Kitty’s labored panting fell quiet. “Cousin, that would assume that this is all about you. It’s not. You’re only...a side effect, at most.” Her eyes flickered between Tamara and myself, then down to Kitty. “Now the question is…” A deft flick of her wrist, and a long, cruelly serrated knife appeared in her long, pale fingers. “What do I do with all of you?”

  The sound of real thunder echoed up the staircase behind me; Charles was still occupied. Something darkened the air around us, the tension in the room thickening ominously. I could feel the walls between Home and Next Door growing thin, but had no idea why. The Sanguinarian leaned over, whispering in Silvia’s ear.

  Silvia glanced at Kitty’s throat and smiled, shifting her grip on the dagger she held.

  “Fuck this,” I pushed forward, past a frozen-seeming Tamara.

  Silvia’s eyes leapt to mine, static crackling visibly around the blackened edges of her gleaming hazel irises, the same irises that grew wider and deeper, drawing me into their endless depths. “Stop,” she hissed. “Fail. Falter. Despair.”

  For an instant, I did exactly that, my body feeling heavier than stone, then weaker than water. I trembled, my mind trying to find the words to justify turning on itself.

  But I’d been here before.

  With a growl, I let my human emotions fall away; Strigoi rage was only too happy to push them aside. Gritting my teeth, I took another step through sheer, obstinate willpower, pushing back at the Moroi’s supernatural power. Then another step, and another; each step becoming easier than the last one.

  Silvia’s eyes went wide, threatening to break the spell completely, then narrowed in an abrupt one-eighty of emotion. “Hold them off,” she snapped at the Sanguinarian, tucking the dagger away.

  “That wasn’t—” the well-dressed vampire began nervously.

  I managed another step, and started grinning.

  “Do it.” Silvia stepped away, unconcerned and businesslike.

  Seemingly against his better judgment, the Sanguinarian started toward me.

  The resistance in the air suddenly snapped, shattering as I ground my will relentlessly against it, and I flung myself into the surprised Sanguinarian trying to bar my way. My shoulder rammed into his ribs, forcing the air from his lungs like a bellows. I grabbed him by the fancy charcoal vest and tossed him behind me, out of my way. Behind me, Tamara burst into motion, sticking out a pale arm and clotheslining him, sending him crashing to the ground, then stomped a platform boot on his throat and pressed down.

  With one barrier out of the way, I strode toward Silvia, putting myself between the Moroi and Kitty.

  We circled each other for a brief moment, Silvia somehow looking down her nose at me despite me being taller. I flexed my fingers and let my claws dissipate in a crackle of static; I didn’t want to accidentally kill her before Tamara had a chance to get answers.

  I darted forward, closing the distance between us in an instant and throwing out an inhumanly quick jab.

  Silvia sidestepped it with a bored, distracted expression and grabbed the back of my skull, long, slender fingers snaking through my hair for a better grip. For the second time in a handful of minutes, I had my strength used against me, as she smoothly avoided my rush, tripped me, and used her new handhold to slam me face-first into one of the loft’s wooden support posts.

  Treated lumber cracked like thunder, the thick post snapping like a twig and vomiting splinters everywhere, leaving the roof creaking in its absence. Silvia didn’t bother letting go, instead simply reversing my momentum and slamming me to the ground. My head rebounded off of the floor with a sharp crack that I hoped came from the flooring, and not my skull.

  I’d fought Moroi before. I’d fought alongside Tamara before.

  Moroi weren’t this strong.

  They definitely weren’t stronger than me—except that this one was. Silvia looked down, her eyes dark, dismissive, and alien, and raised a leg, the shadow of her boot eclipsing my vision as it descended toward my face.

  I caught it and strained, bracing myself against the creaking floorboards, the impending stomp grinding to a halt an inch away from my face, so close I could smell the dirt on her designer boot. Silvia was somehow stronger and quicker than I was, and probably more experienced to boot.

  But right now, with my vision tinted a hot red and Strigoi rage pumping through my dead veins, I didn’t care.

  I was tired of being beaten up tonight.

  Gripping it tightly in both hands, I gave Silvia’s foot a quick, painful twist to the side, then surged to my feet. With a roar of anger that shook the small room, I threw her upwards and bounced her forcefully off the ceiling. As she plummeted back down, I intercepted and cracked her sternum with a knee, then buried my own boot in her ribs, flinging her across the room. She collided with the base of the opposite wall so hard it shattered the tall window above her into a thousand shards of glass, the impact reverberating throughout the room with a dull boom.

  Now she got up more slowly, wiping away a dribble of blood from the corner of her mouth.

  And she grinned, her eyes alight and no longer bored.

  I rushed her, stopping just sort of making th
e same mistake twice. I feinted as if to punch her again, then kicked her in the shin as her arms started upward to block. I expected the bone to break, but it didn’t, so I kicked her in the opposite leg, dropping her to one knee in front of me, and slammed my hands down to either side of her head, preparing to crush her skull if she didn’t surrender.

  Instead of yielding, she grabbed my upper arms, pushing her forearms into my elbows and breaking my grip with her incredible strength. And she didn’t let go, instead using her grip to yank me down and slamming her forehead into my chest in a savage headbutt. My bones creaked under the impact, and I staggered back from the force as she let me go.

  With a wink and a smile, Silvia planted a boot in my chest and threw me across the room.

  I plowed through the table, sending it flying noisily, and Kitty cried out again as I accidentally knocked her over with an outstretched arm. My back impacted the attic’s other thick support post, obliterating it as completely as I had the first one; I hit the opposite wall an instant later and cracked that too.

  The ceiling creaked ominously, both supports gone and two walls slightly battered.

  Silvia pointed upward, and I felt a surge of power—but no static—as the roof itself suddenly cried out, creaking and groaning. I picked myself up as the room shook around us.

  “Ashes! Kitty!” Tamara cried out, darting toward us.

  Silvia blew me a kiss and tossed herself out the window.

  With a thunderous roar of its own, the roof collapsed. I threw myself forward.

  The main ridge beam slapped into my hands. My knees bent a little as the collapse stalled abruptly, Tamara and Kitty sheltered underneath the intact, central wedge of ceiling. I gritted my teeth as it groaned ominously once more, threatening to fall apart in my hands and bury us.

  At the far end of the room, Charles’ head poked up from the stairs. “What the hell did you do?” He grumbled accusingly, staring at me. “And are they okay?”

  “It wasn’t me!” I snapped. “Well, it mostly wasn’t me.” I looked down to where Tamara was trying to free Kitty, duct tape squealing loudly as Tamara tore it through brute force. “Help them get out of here,” I rasped. “This thing won’t hold together forever.” In fact, it sounded like it might not hold together ten more seconds.

  “Got it,” he replied. I expected magic, but he simply climbed up another step or so and stuck out his staff, extending it across the floor as Tamara tore a stunned Kitty free. “Grab on,” he said matter-of-factly.

  Kitty shook off enough of her daze to grab on as instructed, and Charles dragged her across the floor with more ease and speed than I would have expected, Tamara clambering across the cracked flooring right behind. She stopped at the stairs and looked back, her lambent blue eyes glittering with concern. “Ashes, come on.” As Charles helped Kitty down the stairs, Tamara took a few steps down and stuck out an arm, waiting for me.

  Hand over hand, I worked my way toward the stairs. Then the roof started collapsing behind me, and I worked a little faster—it wouldn’t kill me, but I had better things to do than be buried. Like chasing down Silvia.

  I made it to the stairs before it all literally fell apart in my hands, the roof crumbling around me, but Tamara helped me drag myself free and tumble down the stairs. Rising and dusting myself off, I looked up to see Rain and Jason, both human again—and luckily fully clothed, which didn’t always happen with shifters—sitting on the slim kitchen counter, shoulder to shoulder.

  “You both alright?” I looked them over, concerned.

  “Heh,” Jason replied. “Yeah chica, we fine. Good fight.” Despite his nonchalance, I saw him grip Rain’s shoulder reassuringly.

  The younger shifter shuddered a little. “He…got me in the ribs.” He frowned. “Broke some.” But before I could say anything, he smiled a little through the residual fear. “We heal really, really quickly though. I’m fine now.” His voice shook a little, highlighting the bravado for what it was. I had a feeling he’d never been hurt like that before, but compassion, concern, and guilt had a hard time creeping in around the edges of the rage that still swirled through my dead blood.

  I nodded. “If you’re all fine, then,” I growled, causing the two changelings to shift uneasily, “I’ve got someone to hunt. She can’t have gotten far.” Hopefully.

  I barely made it out the door before Tamara wrapped herself around one of my arms and dug in her heels. I tried not to glare at her. “Oh, hell no,” she insisted, capturing my eyes. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  I blinked, confused and a little irritated. “And why not?” I tried not to growl.

  “Because of that,” she said simply, her voice soft. I followed the line of her outstretched arm to the rapidly lightening skyline.

  I swallowed hard, my anger taking a sudden backseat to dread. “Oh. Shit.”

  “Charles!” Tamara snapped the words like an order. “We don’t have time!”

  He just nodded. “Get her home. I’ll take care of things here. And I’ll make sure they’re all safe for now,” he added, gesturing at where Rain hovered close to Kitty. The battered DJ started to protest, but I couldn’t hear what was said as Tamara dragged me out of earshot.

  Tamara bundled me into her car, pausing only to throw a thick thermal blanket over me in the passenger seat.

  “Really?” I asked from underneath the mountain of thick cloth. Good thing I don’t need to breathe.

  “Just in case,” she replied defensively as the Mustang roared to life and took off.

  Just how late had it gotten? A quick glance at my phone after it powered back up told me the answer: late enough to worry.

  “Church, or Lori?” Tamara asked.

  “Lori, please.” I wasn’t in what I considered a presentable state, but a promise was a promise.

  I felt my strength sapping as the daylight increased, and managed to fight off the beginning of a panic attack as Tamara roared down the early morning Birmingham streets. I kicked myself for playing it so close—not that there’d been much choice. How would my friends have fared against the extra Sanguinarian assassins without me there?

  Assuming those same assassins would have even been there otherwise. They’d obviously been there for me; I couldn’t think of many other reasons to tote around a set of vampire stakes. Unless you were Charles-level-paranoid, that is.

  I braced myself against the momentum as Tamara took a left at about fifty miles per hour faster than intended. Meanwhile, I realized I was just one legitimate police stop-and-search away from seeing if this blanket could keep me from becoming an impromptu flambe.

  “So…” Tamara kept her voice conversationally casual, probably trying to mitigate the chances of me flipping out. “Just wanted to say thanks.”

  I shifted under the blanket. “For what? Getting beat up by Sanguinarians?”

  “Hardly,” the Moroi scoffed from just outside my one-woman blanket fort. “You did well enough from what I saw, especially considering…” I could hear the faint edge of concern slip into her voice.

  “Considering how your cousin was the fucking Juggernaut?” I finished.

  She snorted. “Yeah. Still trying to wrap my head around that… None of this makes much sense, Ashes.”

  “So, just like anything else we stumble into,” I replied. I heard Tamara chuckle. “We’ll get there, Tam.”

  “It’s just...Well, to be honest, tonight was a little scary.”

  I frowned, my expression lost in the stuffy darkness enveloping me. I shifted, trying futilely to stave off the stiffness invading my joints. “Yeah. Why was she a powerhouse? Why take Kitty and set her on fire? And why is your family working with the enemy?”

  “They’re not,” Tamara said immediately. “I may not have the rest of those answers, but I know that.”

  “Um…”

  “No.” Tamara’s tone left no room for discussion. She sighed, taking another turn at full speed, and I latched onto the door handle lest I slide out of my seat and in
to her lap. “Sorry, Ashes. I know what it looked like. But trust me, there’s something more going on here than what it looks like.”

  I thought I heard an unvoiced “there has to be” tacked onto the end, but maybe that was just me projecting.

  “Anyway, we’ll sort through this with Kitty. She has to know something,” Tamara continued. “We’ll fill you in and talk it all out tomorrow. I think everyone’s too exhausted to figure out this puzzle tonight, anyway. After I drop you off, I’m going to check on Kitty and go home.”

  I couldn’t argue. I was the one poised to pass out in the next twenty minutes, after all. I could already feel the fatigue dragging on my thoughts as well as my body.

  “Anyway,” Tamara changed the subject a couple of minutes later, “that wasn’t what I was thanking you for. I never got to say thanks for you trying to come to my rescue earlier. In the club.”

  It took my head a moment to catch up. “Oh. Didn’t I completely flub that, too?” I’d certainly thought so.

  “Not totally,” Tamara replied. I could hear the smirk in her voice. “Actually, you stepped in right before I could say something I regretted.”

  “Thought you said you weren’t listening to her.”

  “To what Davora wanted? I wasn’t. And that’s when she started using her powers on me.”

  That made me pause a moment. “Is that what it’s like with your family?”

  Tamara took a moment to respond, too. “Yeah, Ashes. Way too often, anyway.” I wished I could see her face, since I couldn’t read the emotion in her voice.

  I shook my head. My own family history had been rocky but overall loving. I couldn’t imagine fighting them constantly for control of my very actions and emotions, especially considering how intimately Moroi were tied to their emotions. But thinking about Tamara’s family only drew my own blunted thoughts back to tonight’s encounter. “What was up with her eyes?” I blurted out.

  “Huh? Whose? Davora’s?”

  “No. Silvia. Her eyes had this dark ring thingy around them.”