Blood Born Read online

  Jonas flitted about the small basement room where he worked, slept on a hard cot, and fed on the donors Regina had sent to him—just often enough to keep him alive and functioning. Gone were the days when he’d fed at will, leisurely and with great pleasure. These days he didn’t receive a human for feeding until he was near starving, which didn’t bode well for the human.

  This was Jonas’s world for now. Maps covered two walls, and a large corkboard hung upon another. A long plain table in the center of the room held notepads, pens, and pencils. Regina allowed Jonas the use of a laptop computer, but only when he was being closely supervised. That computer, and his carefully programmed cell, were his only contacts with the outside world. There was not a stick of comfortable furnishing, no rug to soften the concrete floor. It was a prison, as stark as Regina could manage to make it.

  The thin, harried vampire flitted from one map to another with a handful of pins. Yellow for the recently activated, red for one who was close to bringing in a warrior, black for those who’d been eliminated. Sorin was glad to see that there were a fair number of black pins in Jonas’s maps. He was disturbed to see a new profusion of yellow, as well as a dozen red.

  “How can we stop them all?” Jonas asked softly, as if he were talking to himself. “They’re everywhere. Paris, this morning, and now London. Why? The rebellion is here, in this country. Warriors are supposed to come in close to the site of battle, right? They don’t have the time to be traveling all over the world. It’s not like they can hop on a plane, not without money and identification and … and why are they starting to come in so far away?”

  Sorin suspected that the warriors, who resided in a very real world beyond this one where they lived, waited and watched, realized what was happening and were taking drastic measures to ensure that some of their number arrived in time.

  And look at this!” Jonas flailed a hand toward one map. “Eight in New York. Eight! How are we supposed to stop so many?” He shook his head. “She’s going to be so mad. She’s going to be angry as hell.” His entire body shuddered. An angry Regina had become his greatest fear, and with good reason. While no scars were left behind, thanks to Jonas’s vampire blood, the pain she inflicted upon him when it suited her was very real.

  Sorin was concerned by the new developments, but he wasn’t alarmed. Regina had spent the last several years bringing over subjects, her own devoted children, who would serve her faithfully when she ruled. She treated them better than poor Jonas, and thereby kept them loyal, but at the same time she made sure they always knew who was in charge. Their numbers had grown, and though many in her army were newer vampires who had not yet discovered extraordinary talents, humans didn’t have a chance against even the weakest vampire—as long as they didn’t know what was coming and how to fight it. There were a number of veterans among the rebels, too, ancient vampires like Sorin who were tired of hiding in the dark corners of the world. He’d send veterans to handle the red, fledglings to the yellow. Soon they would all be black.

  There remained only one pin in the D.C. area of the map that was not black, and it was an unalarming yellow. Sorin hoped Regina was right and Luca would soon tire of the human. It would be much easier to eliminate Chloe Fallon and stop her ancestor from coming in so close to the seat of the rebellion if she were not in the protection of one of the most powerful vampires in existence.

  Sorin left Jonas to his mumblings and pins, issued orders to those who were waiting for them, and then swiftly climbed the stairs to Nevada’s quarters. In a few hours he’d leave for New York. Before then, he needed to do what he could to spur her on.

  While he’d always championed a more subtle approach with Nevada—out of necessity, as a wounded and weak witch would be of no use to them at all—he sometimes wondered if Regina’s methods would be more effective. He shuddered at the thought of one so young and vulnerable in the kind of pain Regina could inflict, and he found himself glad that it had never come to that. Nevada was soft, her emotions her weakness. The threats to her family kept her in line. If one of those family members was disposed of before her eyes, would she work harder to save the others? Or would they lose her entirely? If he threatened to allow Loman to feed from her, would she find a reserve of strength to complete the spell?

  He couldn’t allow her scent to distract him. Now that he’d identified why that smell was so familiar, he should be able to dismiss the memories and the unwanted weakness those memories brought forth. Nevada was a tool, nothing more.

  One of the new guards was at the door, bored and disdainful of her new position. She’d rather be killing conduits, had all but begged to be taken on as a hunter. Sorin nodded to Danica and walked into Nevada’s room.

  Nevada’s head snapped up in obvious alarm, her eyes widened. Was it his imagination or was she thinner than she’d been just a few months ago? He pushed the thought aside. He didn’t care, as long as she ate enough for her body to function until she’d done what she’d been brought here to do.

  He was surprised that she didn’t glare at him for entering without knocking, as if her complaints had ever made a difference. “Wait right there,” she said softly.

  “I don’t wait,” Sorin responded, but he did stop several feet away from Nevada and her worktable.

  Nevada closed her eyes, stretched out her arms. She looked ethereal, with her fine red hair hanging around her shoulders, with the loose robe she wore clinging to her body here and there, flowing freely in others. Yes, she was thinner than she’d been, even a year ago. She hadn’t seen the sun for three years, and her naturally pale skin was delicately creamy, unblemished, and unmarked but for those light freckles. He might turn her, he thought idly. Then she’d be more pale, more beautiful, more powerful. If she kept her witch’s powers after being turned, she would be incredibly important in the new order.

  There were only two choices for Nevada. She would be turned or she would die. If she had the power to undo the old spell then she could also cast it all over again, and that could not be allowed. If she were one of the kindred, she’d have no reason to work against them—if any of her innate witchcraft remained within her.

  She began to whisper. He knew several languages, and this was not one of them. As Sorin watched, the shimmer he’d noticed on other occasions came to life. It grew. Sparks of light danced within the circle of magic Nevada created. The shimmer became a bubble that surrounded her, encased her. It grew until it almost touched Sorin, and then it stopped. He’d seen her do this once before.

  Nevada opened her eyes. “You’re not welcome here,” she whispered. “You cannot come in.”

  Unconcerned, Sorin took a single step toward her … and ran into the shield she had created. He could go no farther. He shouldered the transparent bubble, tried to push his way through the shimmer, but it was no use. She was entirely protected.

  It occurred to him that if they didn’t have her family as leverage, Nevada could protect herself so none could touch her; she could effectively take “home” with her, wherever she went.

  And then she said, “Come in.”

  This time when Sorin stepped forward, he easily passed through the shield of protection. He was within it, with Nevada.

  “This isn’t new,” he said, displeasure in his voice.

  Nevada looked disappointed. “This recent spell is much stronger than the first one. Can’t you feel it?”

  “No.”

  “Man, I can feel it. It’s like the whole world is buzzing, like the magic is crawling on my skin, but not in a bad way. It’s so cool.”

  “How close are you to breaking the original spell?” Sorin asked. Nevada was obviously experiencing a rush caused by the power of her magic, but he felt nothing. He was glad she was enjoying herself, but Regina was losing her patience, and he didn’t have an abundance of patience himself. How much longer would Regina give Nevada to finish the job that had been forced upon her? “How long before this is finished?”

  “Days, I think,” she whisper