William shook his head but didn’t bother to discourage her further.
“He’s taken her inside.” William gestured to the side door. “It could be a trap. We’ll have to enter through the tunnel.”
He strode off in the opposite direction, Aoibhe trotting at his heels.
“There isn’t a tunnel that leads to Teatro.”
“Prepare to be surprised.”
He entered a nearby building and descended a staircase, twisting and turning in the darkness until he came upon a wooden door, locked with an iron padlock. With a flick of his wrist he broke the lock and swung the door open.
Aoibhe lifted her skirts distastefully as they walked down a dark, damp passage that was crawling with rats. “I’ve changed my mind. I’m not noble enough to pay my debts.”
William ignored her, increasing his pace. Without explanation he made two left turns and then stopped in front of another locked door.
“This will lead us to one of the rooms.”
“Pray it’s not in use,” Aoibhe muttered as he broke the lock.
They ascended a winding staircase that led to a trapdoor. Loud, pulsing music swirled around them, signaling they were under the club.
“There may be soldiers. Are you armed?” William whispered, moving his attention to his companion.
“Yes. You?”
“Yes.” He lifted the trapdoor a fraction of an inch, bracing himself as the hinges of the door creaked. He could see dim candlelight but little else. The trapdoor opened underneath a bed.
“Allow me to enter first,” Aoibhe whispered. “I frequent Teatro and will not garner attention.”
“You’re wanted for treason. They’ll execute you on sight.”
“Which is why you must follow me closely, my prince.” She touched his face. “These may be my final moments.”
“It isn’t like you to be sentimental.”
“Death has strange side effects.” She nodded at him and he lifted the door higher. She crawled through it onto the floorboards.
Then she peeked from underneath the bed.
Chapter Fifty-one
The room was empty.
“Follow me.” Aoibhe crawled out from under the bed and stood, dusting her crimson dress off and clucking to herself. “What a pity. I liked this dress.”
William followed her to the door, opening it a crack.
Other rooms ran the length of the empty hallway. He’d have to enter it and make haste to pick up Raven’s scent.
He hoped he wasn’t too late.
“Let me.” Aoibhe ducked under his arm. “If I’m seen, I may be able to talk my way out of danger.”
Reluctantly, William stood back, watching through the crack as Aoibhe tiptoed down the hall, finally pointing to a closed door. Before he could join her, she’d already knocked.
“Aoibhe!” he hissed.
She gave him a knowing smile and turned to face the door.
Nothing happened. She knocked again.
“Be gone!” Max bellowed from inside.
She knocked a third time, somewhat impatiently.
“What is it?” he cried, flinging the door wide.
Aoibhe had already drawn her sword and as soon as she saw his face, she swung at it. Unfortunately, her weapon glanced off his spine, leaving his head only partially severed.
William wasted no time but flew past her and knocked over the great, hulking beast.
Aoibhe closed the door firmly and blocked it with her body.
“William!”
He lifted his head to see Raven standing by the bed. She was clad in only her underclothes. William’s anger ignited.
He landed a blow on Max’s jaw while the larger vampyre still lay on the ground. “What did you do to her?”
Max jumped to his feet. “You aren’t the master here. Your reign is over.”
Aoibhe intervened, slashing at his legs with her sword and toppling him. William took hold of his head and, with a quick tug, caused the flesh that had been opened to rip further.
“What did you do to her?” he hissed.
Max began to laugh. “He was right. You care more for your little pet than you do for the city. That’s why he was able to take over the army. You’re so busy rutting with your crippled human, you ignored what was going on under your nose.”
Aoibhe wiped her hands on her dress. “Let’s kill him and be quick about it. We need to leave before someone scents us.”
Max stumbled to his feet but she evaded him, landing a swift kick in his ribs. He groaned and bent over, clutching his side. “You won’t survive,” he gasped. “You’ll lose everything.”
“One last question.” William lifted Max’s chin with his sword. “Where’s Pierre?”
Max’s eyes took on a strange light. “Dead. We never reached Paris.”
“May I?” Aoibhe asked, holding her sword.
William nodded.
“Finally,” she breathed. She swung her sword with both hands, decapitating Max completely.
She walked over to his head, which was still dripping black blood, and lifted it. “Yes, this shall do nicely. Now that I have my prize, I’ll leave you.” She bowed to William.
“Don’t leave, Aoibhe. I have need of you.”
A strangled cry filled the room as Raven collapsed on the bed, covering her mouth with both hands. William moved to her side, draping his jacket over her shoulders. He sheathed his sword.
“Are you injured?”
She shook her head.
“Did he . . .” William trailed off, his gray eyes darting to her lower body, which was noticeably absent trauma.
“No,” she managed. “He said you were dead.”
He cupped her face in his hands. “But I’m not. I’m here and you’re safe.”
He kissed her firmly, his cool breath commingling with hers.
“The city has fallen into the hands of a traitor. We must return to the villa.” William’s gaze moved to the woman on the bed. “Is that your sister?”
“Yes.” Raven turned on the bed, examining her sister’s pale form. “I think her nose is broken. Will she be all right?”
“Her heart is beating and she’s breathing well. She’d do better with vampyre blood.”
William turned to look at Aoibhe, who shook her head. “I’ve discharged my debt. It’s time for me to leave before someone realizes we’re here.”
“She’ll heal more quickly if you help.”
“Then feed her.”
“Aoibhe.” His voice was just over a rumble.
A long look passed between the two vampyres.
“If I do this, I want a favor in return.” Aoibhe sniffed.
“A modest favor in exchange for what will be a modest amount of blood.” William’s expression grew threatening.
“Do I have your word?” she asked, still holding Max’s severed head.
“So long as your request is modest, I won’t refuse.”
“Fine,” she snapped. She walked to the bed and held out her wrist.
“Wait.” Raven held her hands over Cara protectively. “William, I’d rather she had your blood.”
“No,” he said firmly.
“Why not?”
“Because he doesn’t want your sister to bond with him.” Aoibhe gave Raven a withering look.
“Is that true?” asked Raven.
William nodded.
“I don’t like the idea of Cara bonding with her.” Raven grimaced.