Bloody Valentine
Page 13

He let out a quick cough and took a deep inward breath before raising his head. “Thanks,” he said softly. He looked around with tired eyes, confused. “Bliss, is that you?”
“The one and only.” Bliss grinned. “Good to see you,” she said, punching him on the shoulder.
“We need to get out of here,” Schuyler said, as she cut the ropes binding Oliver’s chest. “Can you walk?” she asked.
He lifted himself to his feet and nodded. She grabbed his hand and led the other two toward the hole in the floor.
“That was easy,” Bliss said, as they shimmied through the unconscious army.
“Not quite,” a voice said quietly.
Schuyler turned around. She recognized that voice.
One of the sleeping Venators lunged forward. It was the same one who had attacked her earlier.
“The three of you are going to help me end this,” the Venator said, and with a wave of his hand, everything went dark.
When Schuyler opened her eyes again, there was a wild howling in the background.
They were in the glom.
SIX
Abbadon’s Curse
Jack raised his fist, and the whirlwind of dark spirits paused for a moment. The shriek of their mad voices was deafening. Their twisted forms swirled in and out of focus, like some fearsome tornado writhing in all directions. He could feel the Venators’ terror. The Truth Seekers were centuries old, veterans of conflicts both human and supernatural, but the creatures of the Dark were unmistakably horrific. He let the dark mass hover above them for a moment.
The terrifying howl was momentarily quiet as Jack focused on the Venator captain. Jack addressed the man who had mocked him earlier. “Let Oliver go and I will spare your army. You may return to the Countess with your men intact.”
The commander grimaced. “There is no turning back for us, my friend. We were sent to retrieve you at any cost. You may have my army, but I have your friends.”
In that instant, three figures materialized in front of them: Oliver, Bliss, and Schuyler, each guarded by a Venator. The one holding Schuyler held a sword that shone with the Black Fire. Since they were human, Oliver and Bliss looked a little green around the edges. As living spirits, humans could enter the glom, but their physical and psychological makeup made their experience in the twilight world akin to a bumpy ride. Side effects included vertigo and nausea.
The captain of the Venators smiled thinly. “Surrender, Abbadon. Let the Countess help you find your way back to the Morningstar.”
“No—Jack, don’t!” Schuyler cried. “Don’t let them take you!”
So that was what Drusilla wanted. His former allegiance. A chance to redeem himself with his old master. For Lucifer had been his commander as well.
Jack shook his head slowly. The Dark had tremendous power, but its strength was unfocused. The creatures could tear bodies and weapons with colossal ease, but would not be able to save his friends from a quick knife. He could not protect his friends. He could not protect his love. He knew what he had to do. He looked at the ring on his finger.
The Venator spoke again. “The choice is yours. Surrender to us, and we shall set them free. Fight, and they shall die.”
Jack did not hesitate. He opened his fist and unleashed the wild fury of the Dark. He looked straight into his enemy’s eyes as he roared, “THEN LET THEM DIE!”
Bliss screamed as Oliver swung wildly at the man that held him, punching him roughly in the chest. But Schuyler stood motionless for a moment.
She did not know what to believe. She had to trust Jack. She had to believe he was doing this for a reason. So she had to believe that sacrificing them was part of his plan. She had promised to trust him. No matter what happened. Even if something happened that she did not understand.
“Kill her first,” Jack sneered, pointing at Schuyler. She stared at Jack’s angry, contorted face. Schuyler held his gaze for a moment, and she shuddered to see so much hate in his eyes.
It was a trick; it had to be. He was lying. Wasn’t he? She was about to panic but she forced herself to think it through. It had to be a lie, but for some reason Jack wanted her to believe he did not love her. Then she realized. Jack knew. He knew about the ring and the power it had over him, a power that was fueled by the deepest emotion in her soul: her love for him. She had to find a way to stop loving him. It was the hardest thing she had ever done, but she willed herself, she tricked herself into believing the lie. She believed it with all of her heart. Jack did not love her. Jack had never loved her. Jack wanted her dead. Jack…
And just as he wished, her love for him faltered for a moment.
The curse was broken, and the ring that held him fell to the ground smoking. The transformation was instantaneous. Jack vanished, and there was only Abbadon, the Angel of Destruction, rearing his ugly head, his dark wings beating against the wind.
With a ferocious strength, Abbadon grappled with the guard holding the black sword, and the weapon twisted under his mighty grip, shattering in midair. Abbadon lifted the frail and confused Venator by the back of his neck and tossed him toward the dark whirlwind.
Schuyler acted just as quickly, turning to face the Vena-tor whose appearance had begun this terror-filled night. She slid between Oliver and the Venator’s blade, swinging low to parry his quick blow as they twisted weapons in midair. He tossed his dagger to the side and pulled a longer blade from its scabbard. But Oliver, tired of captivity, found new strength as a shot of adrenaline pulsed through his veins. He found the Venator’s vulnerable side and delivered a powerful punch. The Venator turned to him swinging his blade, but Oliver’s diversion left his right flank unprotected.
Schuyler swung at the open spot, her blade slashing deep into his armor. The Venator wrenched sideways, confused by the multiple blows, unnerved by the strength of her sword. He tried to balance himself, but a sudden, unexpected kick from Bliss sent him sprawling to the ground. He collapsed in defeat.
Schuyler doubled over, catching her breath, when Jack laid a tender hand on her shoulder. “It’s done,” he said. “We’re safe. Let’s go.”
“Jack—” She could not find the words. Even if the battle had been won, she felt as if she had failed him. Even if it had been a trick, even if it had been something she’d had to do to restore his power, she wanted him to know that she had never stopped loving him. Not even for that instant. She had been able to trick the spell to break the curse, but her heart would always remain steadfast.
“I know,” he said softly. “As I hope you know…”
“You don’t have to say it,” she whispered, tears springing to her eyes to see Jack’s green eyes shining with their usual warmth again. It had been too frightening to believe in his anger and indifference. It spoke to her deepest fear—that Jack’s feelings for her were false, that their love was all a dream. But now as he held her in his arms, she realized her fears were a dream, and it was their love that was true.
“I am sorry for putting you through that. Forgive me,” he said, his face buried in her hair. His hand cupped the back of her head gently, but with the same possessive weight that always gave her a secret thrill.
She shook her head. It had been an ordeal, but one that they had faced together. Their friends were safe and their love was more powerful than any curse. Nothing could hold them back now.
When she blinked her eyes again, all of them were back in the physical world, in the tunnels under the villa.
SEVEN
Dress Rehearsal
A toast,” Oliver proposed, standing with his wineglass raised. There were only four of them at the table: the happy couple and their two friends who had traveled so far to be with them today. They had weathered violence and evil, and now they were ready to celebrate.
Schuyler beamed and leaned back against Jack, waiting to see what Oliver would say. After they had escaped from the Villa Malavolta, leaving the Countess’s army of Vena-tors a crumpled and disbanded heap and no longer a threat to anyone’s safety, they had followed Jack back up to the city streets. They had seen their friends safely to their hotel, and after allowing a few hours to freshen up and recover from their latest adventure, they had agreed to meet at a local trattoria for dinner.
Oliver had taken her aside on the walk from the palazzo to the restaurant, linking arms with her. “He won’t mind, will he?” he smiled, motioning to Jack.
Schuyler shook her head. “Of course not, Ollie. It’s so good to see you,” she said, giving his arm a squeeze. She marveled at the ease of their affection. When they had parted ways at the airport just a few months ago, she had wondered if she would ever see him again, and it made her heart swell to see him looking so happy and healthy. “You look different. You look better. What did the Venators do to you?” she joked.
“Nothing this old boy can’t handle,” he assured her. “But you’re right. I am different.”
He told her about Freya, the witch who had cured his heart and his blood. “I am no longer marked,” he said.
“I felt it.” She nodded. She scanned his open, friendly face. “I am so glad.” They were back to their former allegiance, two friends, their emotions neatly organized back to the way it used to be. Oliver was right. It had to be magic.