"Alvisi," he breathed into her ear as they peered out the crack of the door.
Sure enough, the count and a trio of his female attendants in their blue frocks and feathery headdresses were heading down the hall toward them. Macey sniffed, wondering if the scent of ash was still heavy enough in the air for the undead to notice. Chas was very still, standing behind her to#8220;Who are
Chapter SIXTEEN
~ Of Guilt and Devastation ~
The pain was what dragged her back to consciousness. The pain radiating through her shoulder like a deep, continuous thud. That, and the block of ice covering the back of her neck.
Macey remembered everything just before she dragged her eyes open. But when she did so, she was surprised to find she was alone. The room was dark, lit only by a single, naked bulb. Small, close, and windowless. Little more than a closet.
She was on a cold, concrete floor, lying on her side in a pool of her own sticky blood. Gingerly, she used her right hand to push into a sitting position; the left side of her body was in too much pain. As she sat up, she felt at the wound below her left collarbone. Sticky, globular bits of blood clung to her hand and frock.
"Macey. "
The gritty voice came from behind her, and she recognized it as Chas. Staggering to her feet, she used the wall as a support and turned to find him crumpled in the corner. A large bookshelf pinned him in place.
Though every movement was agony and her knees trembled, Macey still had her strength. She pulled the bookshelf off him, and the exertion caused blood to start flowing from her injury again. Chas groaned with relief as the heavy wooden piece was maneuvered away. He was bound with his arms behind his back and legs together. With the weight of the bookshelf on him, he obviously hadn't been able to move near Macey or even find a way to loosen his bonds.
But now the weight was gone, and he was already struggling with the ties around his wrists. "How are you?" he grunted. "Need a doctor, probably. Ugh. " This last was the sound of triumph as the ropes loosened. He whipped his arms free.
Macey had already fumbled open the knots around his ank savior who carries the deepest taintturned He smiledles and now sat, leaning against the wall. Her vision was mottled with black dots and her head felt as if it were spinning. She pressed a hard palm to her wound, trying to stop the renewed bleeding. "What happened? Where are we?" Chas moved into the small circle of light, and she saw blood on him. Everywhere. Throat, arms, the front of his torso. Someone-or several someones-had feasted. Her insides shriveled. "You're lucky to be alive. "
His smile was humorless. "Both of us are. Left for dead. But they don't know how strong we are, Macey. That's one of their weaknesses. " He edged closer. "Let me look at that. "
She reluctantly moved her hand, and he pulled away the torn edges of her silky dress. He hissed something dark and short, then looked up at her. "You're lucky to be alive. Two more inches. . . "
Macey pulled away. "You had no business going after her like that. " A wave of despair and anger flooded her, washing away the dull, throbbing pain. God, no. Not Flora too. Not Flora.
"You had no business interfering like that. What were you thinking? You could have been killed. "
"Flora is my friend. My best friend. " Her words were choked and tears welled in her eyes.
"Not anymore. " His voice was flat. "Goddammit, Macey, you better understand that right now. She's not your friend anymore. "
"You don't know that. It's Flora. She wouldn't. . . do something like that. "
He thrust a bloodied arm in front of her. "This is her work. "
Macey turned away. "No. " She shook her head. Tears spilled freely, and her belly was an awful, churning mess. Not Flora. Never. Rage and disbelief warred inside her, and she wanted to roar with pain, to lash out at someone. Destroy them.
Who'd done this? Who was to blame? Who?
But she knew. . . in the pit of her conscience, she knew.
Chelle. Mrs. G. And now Flora. Macey had no one to blame but herself. And. . .
"Alvisi. "
Chas looked up at her voice, his expression taut. He'd poured something on his wounds-holy water, from the small vial in his hand. She heard the hiss of pain as he dumped another small dose on his chest.
Macey dragged herself to her feet. Her head wasn't as frothy, and the bleeding seemed to have stopped. Her jaw was tight as she ground out the words. "I'm going to kill him. Do you know where he is?"
For a minute, she thought Chas would argue. Or try and talk her out of it. But he replied, "I have a suspicion. But don't forget Vioget. We have to find him. "
"No. Alvisi first. "
"Macey. You can't put your personal retributions ahead of the good for all. If the undead get those rings, we-"