The Unhallowed (Book Five in the Witch Hunter Saga) Page 13

  Nye shot forward and grasped her arm. “Wait.”

  He stepped into the house, listening with everything he had, but only silence greeted him. Isobel’s scent was everywhere, dangling in front of him like a carrot, but the house felt eerily empty. Turning to glance out into the night, he knew in his heart she’d left.

  This wasn’t a coincidence. The Unhallowed must’ve killed Sabine. Shit.

  “She’s gone,” he said, staring toward the street.

  “But you haven’t looked…”

  “I don’t need to.” He went to step forward, but Gabby put a hand on his chest.

  “I’m coming with you.”

  “No. Stay here, and check the house. Make sure nothing else has been tampered with.”

  Gabby narrowed her eyes but didn’t argue. “Okay.”

  “I’ll find her,” he said, more to appease himself than the witch.

  Breathing deeply, he walked through the house and into the kitchen. The remains of Isobel’s dinner were still on the island bench and had been for some time. Glancing at the open back door, he stepped outside. Here, her presence was everywhere. He felt her lingering against his skin, pulling him forward into the garden, and he allowed his body to act on his behalf, pushing away all rational thought and allowing his vampire senses to lead him.

  Nye followed her scent like a bloodhound—which was an ironic metaphor considering the word blood.

  He lingered at the bottom of the garden underneath Regulus’s olive tree, feeling out the direction she’d gone. The air was so still her scent lingered, mapping out a trail for him to follow like a treasure map.

  Practically running through the streets surrounding the mansion, he found himself on the edge of Hampstead Heath, the largest green area within the city limits. It was here the trail evaporated, her scent overwhelmed by nature. Nye didn’t care. He’d search all night and the rest of forever until he found her.

  Traveling the paths of the Heath, he searched every inch until he came to the southeast corner, and there in the shadow of Kenwood House, he found her.

  She sat alone on the shore of the pond, her shoulders slumped, and he was beside her in an instant. Behind them, the lights of London burned in the darkness, the city stretching out toward the horizon.

  “Isobel,” he said in relief, but she didn’t move.

  Kneeling beside her, Nye cupped her face and tilted her chin up. When their gazes met, he frowned. Her eyes were glassy and vacant, the fire he’d come to know completely gone.

  “Isobel,” he said again, beginning to panic. “Isobel, it’s Nye.”

  She blinked a few times and began to rouse. Her eyes flickered around wildly, confusion clear in her pretty features. “How… How… Where am I?”

  “You’re in the park near the mansion,” he murmured, running his thumb across her flushed cheek. “Hampstead Heath.”

  “But I… I don’t remember…”

  “Don’t worry about it now,” he murmured. “I’ve found you.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, her eyes drooping. “I just wanted to go outside.”

  A twist of pain burst through his heart. He’d forced this on her. He hadn’t meant to, but he now understood that she’d been angry, hurt, and alone. That had driven her to leave the first moment she’d had a chance. All she wanted was to belong, and all he’d shown her was how she didn’t, even though he wanted her affection most of all.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured, pulling her against his chest. It felt good to hold her fragile body against his.

  Isobel sighed, her breath tickling his neck. “I’m so tired…”

  Scooping her up into his arms, Nye carried her though the Heath, along the darkened streets, and back to the safety of the mansion.

  “It’s okay,” he whispered against the top of her head as he walked. “I’ve got you.”

  It was decided. He was going to be the fire.

  Chapter 14

  When the front door burst open with a bang, Gabby was at the top of the stairs in an instant, ready to unleash hell. The house hadn’t been disturbed other than the absence of the barrier and Izzy’s absence, and she’d been left to wait for Nye to return. So far, there hadn’t been any news…until what sounded like an explosion of splitting wood downstairs.

  The moment she saw Nye standing in the foyer with a limp Isobel in his arms, she feared the worst. He strode toward her, a look of panic on his face.

  “She’s not well,” he said as he brushed past her.

  Gabby frowned and followed the vampire’s flight down the hall to Isobel’s bedroom.

  “Nye, wait,” she called out after him, but he wasn’t listening.

  She lingered in the doorway as he laid Isobel gently on the bed and removed her boots, tossing them onto the floor. He cupped her face while Gabby stood by, but her friend had fallen into a deep sleep, and nothing seemed to rouse her.

  “She’s…” he began, smoothing her hair behind her ear. “She said she was tired. I could feel it when I found her. She was confused and didn’t know where she was or how she’d gotten there…” He swallowed hard, unable to take his eyes from her. “They did something to her. Eleanor did something to her. I know it.”

  Gabby stepped forward and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Let me see,” she murmured.

  Nye stood, his shoulders stiff, and allowed her to move into his place. She sat on the bed and took Izzy’s hand in her own as she closed her eyes. This was her forte—soul magic—and she excelled in it more than she did any of the other elements. The ether was her blood right, and with it came an affinity for everything the earth had to offer—air, fire, water, and the earth itself. Gabby was blessed with a heavy burden like other witches of her bloodline, but after all the things she’d seen, she wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Letting her power seep through her skin and into her friend’s, she began mapping out the source of energy she’d felt around her. Immediately, Gabby felt the presence of something dark and twisted…with hooked claws and vine-like tendrils crawling all around Izzy’s spirit. It was a curse. Someone had lured Isobel from the house and placed a nasty spell deep within the most private parts of a human’s essence. It was malicious and cold, and only one person would have been responsible.

  Eleanor.

  The dark tendrils had snaked through Izzy’s flesh and had begun worming their way into her spirit. The longer Gabby let her magic brush against the essence that made her friend who she was, the more she could see the poison.

  Opening her eyes, Gabby dropped Isobel’s hand. Standing, she pulled up the blankets and tucked her in, aware that Nye was lingering behind her, his anxiety growing. She’d known the vampire had a soft spot for Isobel, and he hadn’t tried to hide it when she forced it out of him the other day, but right now, it was looking a lot more serious than she first realized.

  “Is she… Will she be all right?” he asked.

  “She needs rest,” Gabby said, placing a hand on his shoulder in a lame attempt to reassure him.

  “She was so tired…” he began. “It was like all the energy had been…” He glanced at Gabby, and she could see the dread in his eyes. “Did they try to siphon from her? Is that what this is?”

  Gabby shook her head gently. “No. It’s not like that.”

  “Then what is it? Something isn’t right.”

  She nodded toward the door and nudged his shoulder gently. “Let’s talk in the study.”

  He didn’t fight her. He just followed her into the other room and sank down into one of the armchairs by the fireplace. He looked utterly exhausted, as if the weight on his shoulders had finally broken him.

  Closing the door behind her, she sat across from the vampire. “She’s been cursed,” she said gently.

  “What?”

  “I can feel it all around her, leeching into her spirit. That’s why she’s so tired.”

  “What does that mean? Can’t you stop it?”

  “The curse is feeding on her strengt
h and strangling her spirit,” she explained. “Eventually, she’ll fall into a coma and waste away to nothing.”

  “No!” he cried. “That can’t happen. I won’t let it.”

  “Do you love her?” she asked, wanting to hear the truth from his lips.

  “What?” He stared at her like she was stark raving mad.

  “Do you love her, Nye?” she asked more forcibly.

  “What—”

  “Answer the question.”

  He rose to his feet and began to shake, his hands curled into tight fists making his knuckles turn white. “Yes. I can’t help it.”

  “That sounds familiar,” Gabby said wryly, thinking of how her feelings had exploded all over the place with Regulus. She’d hated him for the things he’d done to her friends and the seemingly unforgivable threats he’d made against her, but despite it all, love had won in the face of adversity. She was certain the same would happen with Nye and Isobel.

  “I’m going to rip Eleanor apart,” he snarled. “Cutting off that bitch’s head was nothing compared to what I’ll do to her now.”

  “Nye,” she declared. “If you go now, you’ll be giving the Unhallowed exactly what they want. Stay. When Isobel wakes, she’ll need you. Let me work out a way to save you both before you run off and try to play hero. Please.”

  “If I kill her, then Isobel will be cured,” he argued. “I’ve seen it before.”

  “It doesn’t work that way. Once a curse has been placed, killing the witch who cast it won’t do a thing. It’s not a normal spell, Nye.”

  He stared at her, a look of pure anguish on his face. “No…”

  “I’m sorry. I wish it was that simple.”

  He collapsed into the armchair and covered his face with both hands. “Oh God, what have I done?”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “Every part of this is my fault,” he snapped, letting his hands fall away. “I locked her up in here against her will, I pushed her away, I bit her, and then I did nothing to redeem myself. I allowed her to feel isolated and abandoned when all I wanted to do was—” He stopped himself midsentence, his eyes beginning to swirl into the darkness that took all vampires when they became angry enough.

  “Blaming yourself isn’t going to help anyone, least of all Isobel,” Gabby said. “Calm yourself, and go be with her. There’s nothing you can help me with for the time being. Let me find a way to unravel the curse, but don’t leave Izzy alone.”

  Nye turned away from her and took a few deep breaths. After a moment, he glided from the room without so much as a word and left her alone.

  One thing was glaringly obvious. The Unhallowed had been unsuccessful in all their attempts to get at Nye, so they’d struck where it would hurt the most. By cursing Isobel, Eleanor was banking on Nye going to her. His life for Isobel’s, and by the way he’d reacted it was almost a certainty it would happen…unless Gabby could find a way to stop the curse before it ever became a problem.

  Then there were the ramifications for Izzy, which she’d conveniently left out of her conversation with Nye. If she couldn’t find a way to remove the curse, there was no way of telling what Isobel would become…if she lived long enough to tell the story.

  Anything could trigger the spy into doing something rash, especially in his current state. Love, desire, self-loathing, regret, anguish…it was all threatening to overwhelm the vampire. If that happened, then he’d go for Eleanor’s throat and fall right into a trap. At least, that’s what Gabby suspected.

  Either way, her friend was dying, and she wasn’t sure what she could do to stop it.

  Nye stared down at Isobel and didn’t know what to think or feel.

  He sat beside her on the bed with his legs outstretched and watched her sleep. If she woke right now and caught him, he was certain she’d have something sharp to say about him being a creepy pervert, and he willed with all his strength for her eyes to open. He’d take the tirade with all the grace he could muster if she just surfaced.

  Please, wake up.

  She didn’t move an inch, her chest rising and falling the only indication she was still with him. Gabby said blame would get him nowhere, but he couldn’t help it. He blamed himself for all of it. A mistake he’d made four hundred years ago would cost the life of an innocent woman.

  He found her hand and tangled his fingers through hers, his cold skin against her warm, and held on for dear life. Like she was some kind of sleeping beauty, his touch seemed to rouse her. Her eyes fluttered open, and this time, she saw him.

  “Nye?” she whispered, his name sounding intoxicating coming from her lips.

  “Yes,” he replied, squeezing her hand. “I’m here.”

  “Is this real?” she whispered.

  “It’s real.”

  She sighed and moved against the pillow, her eyes screwing shut before she focused on him again.

  “Do you remember how you got to the park?” he asked.

  She frowned and rolled onto her back, her fingers slipping from his. “She said you loved her.”

  “Who?”

  “Eleanor.”

  “Eleanor is dead…” he began, knowing it was a lie.

  Isobel shook her head. “No… I saw her. I touched her. She’s…”

  “Isobel, we’re talking about something that happened four hundred years ago.”

  “I can’t…” she began, sitting up. “I can’t do this. You never tell me the truth, and I can’t… I don’t belong here.”

  “Isobel,” Nye said, moving so he was right beside her. “I will tell you anything you want. I was wrong to shut you out. I was wrong.”

  She scoffed and allowed her body to press against his. “The lord and master of the London vampires apologizing to a human woman? Miracles do happen, and it isn’t even Christmas.”

  Her sharp wit practically smacked him around the face, and he smiled. That was the Isobel he knew. The fighter.

  “I can ask you anything?”

  He nodded. “Anything.”

  “Was she right? Did you love her?”

  “At the time, I was a new vampire,” he replied. “Everything felt…more.”

  “Tristan said vampires feel things more than humans do,” she murmured, her fingers worrying the edge of the blanket.

  Nye felt the sharp sting of jealousy at the thought of Tristan being the one to console her the night he’d lost control.

  “I thought I loved her,” he went on, his voice sounding stiff. “But now I know it wasn’t anywhere close to real love. I was lost for a long time after I turned.”

  “She gave you meaning,” Isobel said, sounding forlorn.

  “It was another time,” he said. “Another life. I realized many things the day she tried to kill me and a great deal more the day you turned up on my doorstep.”

  Isobel didn’t say a single thing. She opened the drawer beside the bed and pulled out a piece of paper as if she hadn’t been listening to a word he’d said.

  “No way…” she murmured as she unfolded the paper.

  “What’s that?” he asked, hoping it wasn’t what he thought it was.

  She held up the piece of paper, and he recognized the note the Unhallowed had placed on the front door of the mansion to summon the zombie to them. When had she plucked that from the study?

  “I can see it now,” she said, her voice wavering. “The symbol.” She traced the lines with her fingertips, and Nye’s heart twisted. “I don’t know what it means, but I guess I’m not—”

  “Don’t say it,” Nye said, interrupting her. “It’s just the magic… It doesn’t mean anything.”

  “The magic?”

  “It’s what’s making you feel so tired,” he explained. “Eleanor… She put a curse on you.”

  Her expression fell further, and she tossed the paper onto the floor. “Great. Just my bloody luck.”

  “We’ll figure it out,” Nye said, trying to appease her. “Gabby is working on a spell to remove it, and she’s badass. She c
an do pretty much anything.”

  Her eyes drooped and she sighed, giving away how tired she actually felt. “I’m sorry.”

  Nye pulled her hand to his lips. “You’ve nothing to be sorry for.”

  “If I’d just listened to you—”

  He kissed the palm of her hand, and she stopped midsentence. “Gabby’s working on it.”

  “I just wanted… I just wanted…” She turned her face away, but he could see the tears welling in her eyes. “I was so alone… I didn’t understand.”

  “I’m the one who should be apologizing,” he murmured. “I made you feel this way. I thought I was protecting you…but it was the worst thing I could’ve done.”

  Her gaze met his. “Protect me from what? You?” He nodded once, and she sighed. “No…”

  “I bit you. That’s unforgivable.”

  “You warned me,” she argued.

  “It doesn’t make it right. I should never have put you in that position…”

  Isobel’s eyes widened, and her grasp tightened on his hand. “No,” she cried. “No, you can’t leave me. Not now.”

  Leaning forward, he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, his heart squeezing when she sighed in contentment. “It’s much too late for that,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her skin. “Much too late.”

  Chapter 15

  When Gabby appeared, Nye didn’t know how long he’d lain beside a sleeping Isobel.

  Sliding off the bed, he followed her out into the hall, closing the door gently behind him.

  “How is she?” the witch murmured as they walked down the hall toward the study—or ground zero as he was beginning to call it.

  “Tired,” he replied. “I know it’s the curse sapping all her energy…”

  Gabby nodded, closing them inside the privacy of the study. Nye took one look at the mess she’d created and raised an eyebrow.

  Books and papers were strewn everywhere. The shelves that housed a thousand grimoires were pulled apart, dust tickling his nose. Gabby had been hard at work, then.

  “Have you found anything?” he asked, turning to face her. There had to be some spell or remedy inside those pages that could help untangle the curse on Isobel. There were a thousand books with hundreds of spells inside. There had to be something.