Undead Age Series (Book 1): Love In An Undead Age

by Geever, A. M.

  He grinned. “Eventually.”

  Miranda felt a blush that started at her breastbone creep upward.

  “I’ve managed to make Miranda Tucci blush,” Connor said as he kissed his way across her face. “She’s remembering all the terrible things I did that made her squeal like a little girl.”

  “I do not squeal.”

  Connor smirked, then ducked his head and made lazy circles around her nipple with his tongue. She squealed.

  “Maybe I squeal a little,” she allowed, breathless. “But only when it’s done right.”

  “Hopefully that means a lot more squealing in my future,” Connor murmured, his hands beginning to roam farther afield.

  “I should really go to work,” she sighed.

  Connor kissed his way up her neck and along her jaw. “Don’t be ridiculous.” She could tell from his tone he knew she was teasing. “It’s not every day you wind up in bed with me, and it must be almost noon, anyway.” He reached the hollow of her collar bone and, rolling onto his back, pulled her on top of him. “We didn’t get to sleep until at least five or six.”

  “That’s true.”

  Her aspect became serious as she looked down at him. She smoothed his hair back from his eyes, dark brown eyes she could lose herself in. His lazy smile was suffused with sleepiness and desire. She felt like she was falling into a chasm, into the landscape of tender feelings she worked so hard to keep under wraps, locked away where they could not hurt or betray her.

  “It’s okay, Miri,” Connor said softly, brushing her cheek. “Just be here with me.”

  A rush of affection swelled her heart. She kissed him and forgot about everything else.

  Mario jabbed his phone. Whoever kept calling was not getting the hint that he was unavailable, and anyone who had this number knew this was his day at the lab. Only Emily called him here, and only if it was an emergency.

  “What?” he snapped.

  “I’ve been trying to get hold of you for half an hour,” his brother’s voice bellowed. “I was just about to come over.”

  “This better be good, Dom. I’m in the middle of something here, at the lab.”

  “The Navy intercepted a small ship outside the Golden Gate. It was smuggling post-bite with no customs stamps.”

  The floor seemed to fall out from under Mario.

  “What?”

  “I don’t know more. I’m on my way to Council Chambers now.”

  “They think it was stolen from here?”

  There was a pause before his brother answered. “Where else would it be from?”

  “That’s not what I meant,” Mario said. “Just, how?”

  “You tell me. They were sailing out of Santa Cruz, which doesn’t make any sense. Why take it south only to go north again?”

  Mario couldn’t breathe. From Santa Cruz with no customs stamps?

  “Mario, are you still there?”

  “Yeah,” Mario said, trying to keep his voice even. He could hear the rev of the engine from Dominic’s car. “They must be lying about where they sailed from.”

  “That’s what I thought. We need your people to start an inventory to find out what batch it was from. Then get to chambers as soon as you can.”

  “Of course,” Mario said, willing his voice and breathing to return to normal. I’ll need to doctor the logs, he thought, mind racing. How the hell had this happened?

  “There’s one more thing, Mar,” Dominic said. “We have information we can move on now, known associates. Three of them used to work for the Farm. We’re going to bring Miranda in.”

  Mario’s stomach clenched as if to ward off a blow. He grabbed the edge of the lab table, almost dropping the phone in the process. His stomach heaved so hard he thought he was going to be sick.

  “Mario? Are you there?”

  Mario looked at his hand that held the phone. It buzzed with his brother’s voice. “I’m here, Dom.”

  “I didn’t want you to hear it from anyone else.”

  “I understand,” he said more smoothly. “I’ll get the inventory review started.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “It was a long time ago, Dom. There’s no love lost between me and Miranda.”

  “Okay then,” Dominic said, his relief evident even as a disembodied voice. “I’ll see you soon.”

  Mario was out the lab door before the call ended. He had to find Miranda before they did.

  23

  .

  Connor nuzzled Miranda’s neck. “Do you really have to go to the Farm?” he asked, pulling her closer. The muffled drum of a steady rain beat against the roof. “It’s going on eight, and it’s dark and miserable out there.”

  “I don’t want to go,” Miranda said, wriggling away from him and climbing out of bed. “But they never call me unless they really can’t figure something out.”

  “You can walk away from me any day, so long as you’re naked,” he said as she walked down the hall.

  “You’re ridiculous.”

  She slipped into a robe to ward off the chill and began brushing her teeth. They’d stayed in bed all day, apart from taking Delilah out for a walk and finally succumbing to hunger pangs in the early afternoon.

  Connor spoke again, this time from the bathroom doorway. “I’ll come with you. I’m pretty handy.”

  Miranda rinsed out her mouth and turned off the faucet. Connor tossed her a towel.

  “Okay,” she said, wiping her mouth.

  A hint of a smile curled his lips. For a moment, she thought he was going to rip off her robe and take her against the wall.

  “Do we have time for a shower?” he asked.

  “A quick one. They need me there now.”

  An hour later they were on the Expressway, headed for San Jose State. Raindrops splatted against the Rover’s windshield so heavily that Miranda could hardly see before the wipers swished back again. Delilah sat in the back seat, unable to sustain her sulk at being displaced from her bed in the face of an open window she could stick her head out of, even though it meant she got wet.

  “He’s in a hurry.”

  Miranda had noticed the SUV behind them as well. It was gaining fast. Then flashing overhead lights came on. The rain made them look twinkly, like Christmas lights.

  “That’s Council Security. Fuck.”

  Connor turned to look out the rear window. “How bad is that?”

  “It’s usually not good,” Miranda said. She pressed down on the accelerator.

  “You’re not going to stop?”

  “I don’t want to get stuck here on the Expressway where no one can see us. We’ll try to get to the Farm, or at least to the exit.” She checked the rearview mirror again. “Are they leaning out the windows?”

  Connor twisted in his seat as he pulled his handgun from its holster. A boom, followed by a hail of glass, pelted the interior of the Rover.

  “Jesus Christ!” Miranda cried, ducking low. She looked in the rearview mirror. The back window was gone. She stood on the accelerator, willing the Rover forward on pure adrenaline. She glanced over at Connor. Dozens of small cuts covered his face. “Are you okay?”

  He nodded, his head now even with the dashboard. He touched his face gingerly and pulled a nugget of glass out of his cheek. Delilah barked like a banshee from the back seat.

  Connor peeked over the seat. “They’re close, Miri.”

  “I can see that.”

  The SUV shot forward and rear-ended the Rover with a frightening crunch of metal on metal. Miranda checked the mirror again. She put twenty feet between the Rover and the SUV, then pulled the parking brake and prayed as she jerked the steering wheel. The Rover spun about, a spray of water flying in its wake. The SUV veered away to avoid a collision. Miranda jammed the Rover into gear as she released the brake and accelerated in the opposite direction. She looked back. The SUV had turned around and was once again in pursuit.

  “Miri, watch out!”

  Miranda looked ahead. A second
SUV with lights and sirens merged onto the Expressway only six car lengths ahead and headed straight for them. Miranda waited a moment, then swerved. The second SUV’s front fender connected with the rear fender of the Rover. The Rover jerked hard to the right, but somehow Miranda kept it moving forward.

  “The first one’s coming up on your left!”

  She was ready for them this time. As the SUV moved to overtake them, Miranda swerved and smacked into its side. The SUV pushed back, trying to trap them against the Expressway wall.

  She switched on the flamethrowers. Yellow flames shot up the side of the Rover, so bright they were almost blinding. She glimpsed the horrified look on the face of the man nearest to her as he flinched away from his open window. She slammed the Rover into the SUV again, pushing it past the center line of the road. She looked ahead and her heart sank. Another SUV approached.

  “There’s another one,” Connor groaned.

  “I see it. Hold on.”

  Miranda headed straight for the oncoming SUV. It adjusted away from a collision course with the Rover, which put it on a collision course with the SUV trying to pin them against the Expressway wall. Then a man leaned out the front passenger window of the oncoming SUV. They were so close Miranda could tell he held an AK-47.

  “Get down!” she cried.

  The first SUV had caught up to them. It rammed the Rover from behind. Shots rang out, from ahead or behind she could not tell. Miranda braced for the next impact, but suddenly the steering wheel listed left. They shot out our tires, she thought. Then the SUV beside them flipped.

  Connor shouted, his words lost in the noise of the flipping SUV crashing into them. The impact smacked the Rover against the wall. Miranda yanked the steering wheel hard, trying to spin out around it, but the slippery road offered no purchase. Gunfire seemed to come from all directions as the blur of the oncoming SUV rocketed past them.

  The Rover spun in a circle before tipping on two wheels. Miranda tried to correct, but it was too late. The concrete roadway rushed toward her window, and then she was upside down. Her head thumped the headrest and spots danced before her eyes. They slid across the pavement in a shower of sparks and flame. Delilah yipped and whimpered in the back seat.

  The noise and chaos was supplanted by an eerie silence and the steady drum of the rain. She felt Connor’s hand on her arm.

  “You okay?” she asked. The coppery taste of blood tinged her mouth. She smacked at the flamethrower switch. The reflection of bright yellow flames vanished from the wet concrete.

  Connor grimaced as he moved his shoulder. “Good enough. We have to get out of here.”

  More gunfire – short, controlled bursts – then footsteps running toward them. Miranda heard the click of Connor’s seatbelt while she struggled with her own. He fell to the roof of the car with a groan.

  “Mine’s stuck!” she hissed. She felt for the machete mounted on the ceiling below her, but it wasn’t there anymore. She tried the door. Jammed.

  I can’t believe this is it, she thought, dazed. I’m going to die in a drive-by. I always thought it would be a zombie.

  “Don’t shoot!” a voice called out. “We’re here to help.”

  Five sets of feet stepped into the Rover’s headlights, then a man dressed in black combat fatigues with a machine gun slung over his shoulder crouched by Miranda’s window.

  “Are you okay?” his muffled voice asked through the rain-spattered glass.

  Before she could answer, the door on Connor’s side creaked opened. Hands reached in to pull him out, followed by a murmur of voices.

  The man outside Miranda’s window spoke again. “Turn away, ma’am. I have to break the window.”

  Miranda twisted away as best she could. She heard two loud thunks. The third blow was accompanied by a sharp crack, the next with a spray of glass.

  “My seatbelt is stuck,” Miranda said, turning back.

  She shook her head to dislodge pieces of glass from her hair and the world tilted and swayed around her. She did not know who these people were, probably had another concussion, and was trapped upside down in her own car. Given the circumstances, it was hard to think of this man as her rescuer. For all she knew the Rover was the frying pan and these people were the fire, but she didn’t have much choice.

  “Is my dog okay? She’s in the back.”

  The man switched on a flashlight and squinted through the open back window.

  “I see her,” he answered. His face went out of view as he turned away. “Miller, come get the dog! I have to cut her out.”

  A second man appeared and started calling to Delilah through the open back door window. Miranda heard Delilah wriggle through the window and begin to whine. The man beside Miranda produced a utility knife.

  “She’s okay?” another voice demanded.

  “Looks like it,” the man working to free her said.

  “Liley,” the demanding voice said. “What a good girl you are! I’m glad you’re all right.”

  Miranda couldn’t place the voice. There were other people talking and the rain seemed louder than ever, but whoever it was knew Delilah. She relaxed the tiniest bit.

  “Can you put your hands down so you don’t fall, ma’am? Can you take any weight on your arms?” At Miranda’s nod, the man wrapped his arm around her waist and cut her seat belt. He helped Miranda ease herself down, then put his hands under her armpits and began to pull her backward out the window.

  She was halfway out when she saw him in the headlights.

  Miranda instinctively recoiled and began struggling with her rescuer. Catching the man by surprise, she shrugged him off. Lacking better options, she tried to scoot back into the Rover. Two sets of hands grabbed her shoulders and pulled her out again.

  “We’re here to help you!”

  Miranda looked at Mario, wild-eyed. He had her under one arm, the first ‘rescuer’ had her by the other. She bucked and kicked as they dragged her from the Rover.

  “Let me go! Even I never thought you’d stoop this low!”

  When her feet hit the pavement, she pushed. All three fell back in a heap. She elbowed Mario in the ribs as hard as she could. His cry of pain was satisfying, but the tactic ineffective. Almost instantly he was on top of her, pinning her hands above her head.

  “We’re here to save you!” Mario shouted, rain dripping from his nose. He motioned toward the crashed SUVs with his head. “They were trying to hurt you, not us! Settle the fuck down!”

  Connor limped into view behind Mario, leaning on one of the armed men in black. “Hey!”

  “Get him off me!” Miranda shrieked.

  Mario moved aside and Miranda bolted to Connor. The motion made her head swim so much she thought she would pass out. She’d lost her Desert Eagle in the crash and apparently Connor had lost his gun, too. Six armed men surrounded them in addition to Mario. One of them had Delilah by the collar.

  “We do not have time for this,” Mario said urgently. “The Council is after you. We have to go.”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you,” Miranda snarled.

  “We just saved you from people who were trying to harm you, and you think I’m going to hurt you?” Mario pointed at Connor. “He’s Emily’s cousin, for Christ’s sake! What kind of person do you think I am?”

  “You can say that with a straight face? For all we know you staged this whole thing.”

  “You are the most pig-headed, vindictive woman on the planet,” Mario shouted. “Get in the goddamned car!”

  “They did save us, Miri,” Connor said.

  “You don’t know who you’re dealing with.”

  “We can’t stay here.”

  “We can try one of the other SUVs,” she said. Which is totally stupid, the rational part of her mind piped up. Connor was right. They had to get out of here before anyone else showed up.

  The scowl on Mario’s face hardened. Despite his assurances, Miranda thought he would happily kill her if the look on his face was any indication.
>
  Mario shifted his attention from her to Connor. “Will you come with us, or would you rather stand here in the rain and wait for the next hit squad?”

  “He’s not going with you,” Miranda said, not giving Connor a chance to speak. “Let’s try the other SUVs first,” she said, desperate, but her mind shouted, Go with him, you idiot! It’s the only way. “I know going with them seems like the smart thing, but you can’t trust him.”

  “You’re being irrational.” Connor grabbed Miranda’s arm and dragged her with him toward Mario. “We’re coming with you.”

  “No, we’re not!” Miranda cried, trying to pull free of Connor.

  “Thank God someone has some sense,” Mario muttered. He turned to the man closest to him. “Find their weapons if you can and get them in the car. And if she fights you, tie her up.”

  “I didn’t agree to that!” Connor protested.

  Mario headed for the SUV. “Tie him up, too, if you have to.”

  24

  .

  She would kill him. If she ever got out of these restraints, she would hunt Mario down, to the ends of the Earth if that’s what it took. She would rip his beating heart out of his chest with her bare hands and make him watch while she fed it to Delilah. She had not thought it possible to hate him more than she already did, but once again he had proved her wrong.

  She would kill Connor, too, she decided. He sat next to her, unbound. He decided to go with them and dragged her along, then stood by and did nothing when they bound and gagged her. He had the gall to try and pat her arm after she was unceremoniously dumped into the back seat of the SUV. She had shrugged him off with venom enough that he had not tried again.

  You have only yourself to blame, her conscience said unhelpfully, if you had just gone with them you wouldn’t be so vulnerable, tied up and at his mercy, but oh no… you had to fight, knowing you never had a chance.

  Miranda glared at Delilah, sitting happily in the front seat next to Mario. She was relieved Delilah had made it through the crash with just a few scratches, but still. Her dog, her faithful companion, had snuggled up to Mario without missing a beat.