Read Online Coldstorm (Heart of a Vampire, Book 7) by Amber Kallyn - Free Book Online Page B

place on the list was south of town, a few miles out. The train station ran all hours of the day, mostly carrying a variety of cargo from the east coast to the west. Warehouses scattered a small distance from the station had long since stopped being used. Each year, fewer shipments were sent through Moss Creek. There were easier ways to get around the mountains.
    Matt pulled onto one of the narrow asphalt roads winding around the station. "This place should be the most secure. There were few people inside, other than Montgomery and his people. Only thing is, it's been about half a year since they used it."
    He parked near one of the buildings furthest from the station. They got out and approached the dilapidated building. Skylights dotted the roof with empty, broken panes. Matt opened the door and waved Anca inside.
    In deep contrast to the warm sunny day, inside, the building wrapped them in chilled darkness.
    Anca stopped, stiffening. "What the..."
    Her shrill screams rent the air.
    Matt's instincts flared. Tense, he stared into every shadow, searching for a threat. All he saw were a few wandering ghosts dressed in death.
    Something inside him thrummed with the need to keep her safe.
    His fangs descended. His blood pumped, ready for a fight.
    Anca shook violently, swaying side to side, then began to fall.
    He caught her and pulled her close. "Anca?"
    What the hell?
    She fought his hold, screaming louder. Her nails raked long scratches over his skin. Finally, he pinned her arms to her sides and held her to his chest.
    His rising instincts continued to rage with the need to protect. To stop whatever was harming her. He gritted his teeth against a boiling fury, unprepared for the extent of everything firing through him.
    Damn it. There was no threat he could see.
    "Anca, it's all right. Everything's all right." He shoved his limited power over her, trying to calm her. It bounced off uselessly.
    She continued to scream, the shrill sound exploding with horror.
    His gut churned. He bared his fangs, instinct continuing to ride him.
    But there was no enemy to kill.
    Not for the first time, he wished he had magics beyond only those which came from a vampire's age. He knew others with all sorts of powers that could figure out what was wrong with Anca. Help her.
    He tried to pull her outside, away from the building. She fought him harder as if desperate not to leave.
    Clutching her tight to his chest, he slid down the wall next to the door, keeping her on his lap. He rocked, crooning nonsense. Her screams, growing painfully hoarse, reverberated in his skull.
    Time drifted. He didn't stop.
    Her voice began to break, and still she screamed. After long minutes—one or two that felt like passing eons—the woman in his arms quieted, then stopped straining against his hold.
    Then she yelled, "Stop! Let him go!"
    "Anca, you're safe. There's no one else here." And yet that wasn't quite true, considering the dozen or so ghosts scattered throughout the building. Some appeared as they must have while alive.
    But most came to Matt gruesomely ravaged by untold tortures.
    Anca's magic flared, nearly burning him with its intensity.
    Once more he felt the extent of her power. No wonder the Magic Council had recruited her. Her strength almost flattened him.
    "Stop!" she screamed. Her body went stiff once more. "Not the child. Don't hurt the child." Her magic flared again.
    It was easy enough to figure out she must be caught in some sort of magic vision. And her first through was trying to save others from being hurt.
    With a surging fury, she tried to scramble deeper into the building. Matt held her, barely preventing her escape.
    "No. No more!" Her words were a shocking dowse of arctic water. The pain and horror and sympathy in her voice were real enough.
    His earlier musings came back. Perhaps she wasn't as cold as most at the Council.
    For some reason, the thought made him tense, as if another threat was rising that he must fight or run