Free vampires mage 02 - witch hunter by c n crawford Page A

do to you.”
    “She promised to give us our wings back if we obey.”
    Rosalind shook her head. “She’s not going to give your wings back.”
    “Why?”
    “Because she’s an asshole.”
    Bianca’s eyes glistened, but she merely stared at Rosalind.
    Rosalind glanced at the door. At any minute, someone was going to realize there was a dead ker queen on the esplanade, and she’d come from Rosalind’s window.
    She gripped Bianca’s hair. “Okay, Bianca. I’m going to tie you up and come back for you. There’s still a lot more I need you to tell me, and I know you’re lying. But right now, I need you to tell me where Caine is. I’m going to find him. And as long as I make it there alive—if you’ve given me good information—I’ll let you live.”
    Bianca’s eyes scanned the room. “What happened to the queen?”
    “She jumped out a window. She was upset about her wings.”
    Bianca’s eyes widened. “You killed our queen.”
    “I realize that’s probably a breach of protocol,” Rosalind shot back, “but she was trying to cut off my face.”
    “Fair enough.” Bianca eyed her warily. “You might as well kill me, too.”
    “Tell me where to find Caine,” Rosalind commanded.
    “Fine. It’s simple. Walk to the end of the hall—the same way you came in. Take the stairs just one floor up. His room is near the painting of Lord Byron. But you’ll need to do something about the smell of your blood, or the vampires will slaughter you in seconds.”
    A memory sparked in Rosalind’s mind—the last time she’d been to Caine’s room. It had been right next to a painting of Lord Byron in a turban. She’s telling the truth.
    Rosalind surveyed the demon for just a few seconds. The keres were gaunt as hell—someone had been starving them. “Thank you for your help. I’ll make sure you’re taken care of when I return. And that you get fed, once I get to Caine’s room safely. What do I do about the blood?”
    Bianca nodded at the other ker, who was bleeding out on the floor. “Use her blood. Rub it on your neck. It will mask your human smell.”
    “I’ll have more questions for you later. Right now, I’m going to bind you in the hawthorn boughs so you can’t escape. And when—”
    “You really think Erish won’t return my wings?” The ker’s eyes were frantic.
    Nope. “Why would she, if she can continue using you forever?”
    The ker stared into Rosalind’s eyes, then snatched at her hands, driving the blade into her own throat. Blood gurgled up through the wound, and her eyes bulged.
    Rosalind stood, jumping away from the ker. Her heart hammered, and she wiped the blood off her hands onto her pants. What the hell had that been about? The wings, apparently.
    I guess there is no point being a ker without wings.
    She glanced at the other ker, whose black dress glistened with blood. The ker’s chest was still. Dead. That wound shouldn’t have killed her so fast, but the keres looked like they’d been starved. Black dirt was encrusted under their fingernails, and their pale skin looked sickly.
    Rosalind crouched down, smearing her fingers into the ker’s blood, then rubbing it onto her own gashes. She winced as the pain seared her neck. She rose, dizzy from her own loss of blood, and ripped a few large thorns from the hawthorn bough to add to her arsenal.
    And now I’ll find Caine, before I pass out and find myself a vampire’s dinner.

Chapter 9
    Rosalind stalked the hall, her heart pumping the blood from her neck. Hopefully her own blood wasn’t washing away the ker’s. Moonlight cast long, silver shadows across the black flagstones. The sound of her boots echoed off the high ceiling; the only other sound was her own ragged breathing.
    Just a month ago, she and Tammi would have been hanging out in her dorm room, listening to the Pixies or Beyoncé and trading clothes. Apart from the odd scuffle with a boggart as part of her demon-hunting gig, things never got much crazier than crashing