Blood Recall

by Connie Suttle

  "Ilya said that people disappear from prisons, mental wards and orphanages. They're probably drawing on those resources to create duplicates. We have to go hunting, I think," Charles leveled hazel eyes on me.

  In reality, he was taller, with dark eyes and hair. This version seemed so—benign. Harmless, even. He was a master of manipulation, after all.

  The Mighty Mind, or Wisdom. One of the Three.

  My father.

  "We have to go hunting." I tossed out a hand and disappeared in front of him.

  Lissa

  "What do we know about Kevin?" Bill asked. He wanted to track Kevin and Peter, and didn't seem to care which one we found first. I figured he hoped they'd lead us to Ivan Baikov, just as I did.

  "He likes comfort food," I said. "And plenty of it."

  "Full moon is too far away to use that to track him," Winkler grumbled.

  "We'll use that as a last resort," Bill said. "The message you have says thirty-six hours before they strike again. I figure they may send Kevin, along with a few vamps, to take you in—if you agree to hand yourself over," he added.

  "Did they explain their threats if he doesn't turn himself over?" Ilya asked.

  "Of course not," Winkler snarled. "That's what they always do—make you afraid of what it might be."

  Zaria

  I sat on the same park bench where Gorham's assistant met with Peter Zukov and Kevin Miller. Across the street was the diner, whose grainy images we'd looked at earlier.

  Burgers, Hot Dogs and Chili Fries, their sign proclaimed, beneath Al's Fifties Pit Stop. It was a popular greasy spoon, I'll give it that. The lunch crowd had arrived; the restaurant was filling up fast.

  "Well, how-de-do," I breathed as Kevin Miller walked into the place behind two truckers. Looks like Kevin wanted everything on the menu; he was hungry.

  Lissa, I sent, I have my eye on Kevin Miller at Al's Fifties Pit Stop, across from the park bench. Feel like a burger?

  Lissa

  Well, the old saying was true. The way to a man's heart—and every other part of him, too—was through his stomach.

  Winkler didn't say a word as he and I walked into the diner first, followed by Bill, Ilya and Zaria.

  Would this Kevin recognize us, or was he in the dark about the real Kevin's demise? Time to ask questions and find out.

  Kevin sat on a stool at the counter, between two truckers. He's being guarded by them, Zaria informed me.

  I can get all three, I replied. Bill, where do you want them?

  "There are holding cells in the basement of my building," he said, his voice soft.

  Good enough, I sent.

  I'll handle their disappearance, Zaria said.

  Good. I went to mist, and in seconds had three men gathered up and flying toward Bill's office building.

  Bill

  I still have no idea how Zaria does what she does, but there wasn't even a blink as the three barstools were emptied of their occupants and three images appeared in their place.

  We watched as all three solid images slid off their barstools and headed for the door, opening and closing it as if they were corporeal.

  Three waiting customers rushed toward the available seats, covering them quickly.

  "Food must be good here," Winkler quipped as we followed Zaria out the door. In less than a block, she transported us to the holding cells, where Lissa paced outside while two mean-looking men dressed as truckers shouted at her. Kevin Miller sat sullenly on the bench at the back of his cell. He didn't like being locked up—that was clear.

  "Shut up," Lissa barked at the two men, who went silent so quickly it was frightening. "Sit down," she snapped at them. They obeyed, backing up to their own benches and plopping down.

  "He doesn't have Kevin's memories," Zaria moved to stand beside Lissa. "He has no idea he was made from the blood and tissue of a dead werewolf."

  He looked up when Zaria said Kevin, however, so they'd given him that name.

  "Does he recognize me?" Winkler asked.

  "Only from photographs," Zaria replied. I struggled to determine how she knew all that just from looking at the little fucker.

  "Do you remember who you were before?" Zaria asked.

  "Kevin Miller," he growled at her. "I've always been Kevin Miller."

  "Who is Tate Briggs?" Lissa asked.

  "I don't know who the hell you're talking about."

  "He's not lying," Zaria turned to blink at Lissa.

  "No, he's not. He has no idea who he was before. Do you think this means he came from a mental hospital, maybe?"

  "Could be. The drug could fix the ah, problems, I think," Zaria answered Lissa's question.

  "Do you have locations you can give me?" I asked Ilya. "Of prisons, hospitals and such?"

  "Are you thinking about searching them? I warn you, that will likely mean your death."

  "Somebody has to do something," I hissed at him before flinging an arm toward Kevin Miller, part II. "That kid—the original, died in Kansas City in a firefight with the local police, after he killed two people at a hotel. They're reproducing our worst nightmares, and somebody needs to stop it."

  "Nobody wants to eliminate this threat more than I do," Ilya growled back. "It would be wise to understand when you may be overmatched."

  "We have two of the best with us right now," I lowered my voice. "Lissa—I've seen her handle the impossible. With Zaria's help, I think we may be able to stand toe-to-toe with whatever your Klyki can throw at us."

  "I know you think this may be simple to deal with," Ilya said. "This is only the beginning. I know them. I've seen them operate. They always start small, but trust me when I tell you that they want you to think it will be simple to eliminate them. You have seen the dangerous cub and desire to kill it, but the main threat remains hidden, waiting for you to try. Believe me—the tiger is preparing to attack."

  "Then what do you suggest?" I said, not bothering to hide my anger.

  "I have to consider this," Ilya said. "We must plan carefully, or they will keep distracting us with this sort of thing until it is too late and they have what they want anyway."

  "Well, what they want is Winkler and Lissa," I said. "How the hell are they going to take them?"

  "I do not know, since I don't have sufficient information from both sides. I believe it will come to this, though, that whatever threat they have devised, handing over two people will seem a bargain."

  Lissa

  "Those two don't have memories past two weeks ago," Zaria told me. We'd finally turned away from Kevin, to scrutinize his trucker-guards.

  "So they could all come from a mental hospital?"

  "It's possible, I suppose. I hope that's the explanation, anyway."

  "They're basically useless to us—all three of them."

  "Except as a distraction. We don't know that this Kevin is the same one who sat on the park bench with Zukov and Gorham's assistant."

  "Well, that's comforting to know."

  "We also don't know that there aren't more Gorhams out there. Or more of almost anyone. I can't see the meeting in this one." She turned back to Kevin.

  "So there are more." I let my shoulders droop as that information soaked in. "Just as there could be more of Lester Briggs and Bart Orford."

  "Afraid so."

  "Do you think there are more Baikovs?"

  "I sure hope not. I pray they're too egocentric to allow more of themselves."

  "But we can't say that for certain."

  "Nope." And we don't know where Liron is in all of it.

  "Ah. The uh, tiger Ilya referred to a moment ago."

  "Yes. He should get used to you hearing everything he says from half a mile away."

  You think Liron has any help on this?

  I sure as hell hope not.

  That makes two of us.

  "You overheard everything?" Bill and Ilya joined us. Bill was the one to ask, when he already knew the answer.

  "Yep," I replied.

  "Wha
t do you suggest we do with these three?" Bill nodded toward our captives.

  "There's nothing useful in any of them," Zaria said. "They're clones, now, and have little in the way of memories. They have compulsion placed by a vampire, but I can see past that."

  "Compulsion to do what?" Ilya asked.

  "To distract us, just as Ilya said."

  "You think that they're elsewhere, causing trouble?"

  "Maybe. We'll probably find out soon enough. They gave us thirty-six hours. The clock is ticking."

  "I haven't received any messages of trouble," I said.

  "But what if you're not the first person they think to contact if something goes wrong?" Zaria pointed out.

  "Fucking hell. I have to call Tony." Bill strode so fast toward the door and the hallway beyond it was almost a run.

  I blinked at Zaria while terror froze my heart. If they contacted Tony, then he'd abandon his search for me in England and we'd be fucked.

  Royally.

  Bill

  "Tony, where are you right now?" I asked.

  "Driving really fast in England and leading Hafer on a wild goose chase."

  "Has anyone tried to contact you?"

  "A few times, but I let it go to voicemail. I'm a little busy at the moment."

  "Will you let me know when you pick up those messages?"

  "I'll do my best."

  "Thanks."

  "Is that it?"

  "For now." I ended the call while a forceful sigh exploded from my lips.

  "We may have a solution," Lissa stepped into the hallway, followed by the others.

  "What's that?" I demanded. Any way I looked at this, things could blow up in our faces in a hurry.

  "Tony two-point-oh," Lissa said.

  No, I didn't understand. Not then.

  Not until I saw Bill four-point-oh, and a tall man with light-brown hair who grinned at me and punched my arm like he knew who I was.

  Chapter 9

  Ilya

  "I don't understand any of this," I said.

  "Honey, you don't have to understand it. I just need you to work with me in this. It's what Lissa and I know to do to keep the timeline clean."

  "What will you do with the other Bill—the new one?"

  "Send him to England to work with the original Tony for a while. That way, there'll be one powerful person on that team in both places—to ensure that things run as smoothly as they can."

  "They are powerful—these new ones?"

  "Yes."

  "More powerful than you?"

  "Hmmph." Her snort was delicately derisive.

  "Are you really a witch?"

  "A part of me is—Karathian witch—in case you were wondering. Karathia is an alien world, Ilya. Someday, you'll understand that much better than you do now."

  "So, these witches are quite powerful?"

  "Some, as are many of the warlocks."

  "I would like to see this one day."

  "Hold that thought."

  "For how long?"

  "You'll know."

  "You are too cryptic. I like this."

  "Flatterer."

  "Come here to me." I pulled her into my arms. I could tell she was worried. I wished to take those worries away, but they mirrored my own. Holding her was all I could do in this, and I was more than happy to have her pressed against me.

  Lissa

  "He's here," Bill announced from the doorway. We'd gone to his suite to wait for Tony two-point-oh to arrive.

  He grinned at me when he walked through the door—this was the Tony I was married to in the future. The one who held the strength of one of the Powers That Be.

  Tony, stop grinning, I complained in his direction.

  Lissy, don't be that way.

  This isn't fun and games, I snapped. This is dead serious, and getting worse as we go along.

  Then maybe you should bring everybody up to speed. We can lay compulsion afterward, if we have to.

  I sure as hell hope you remember everything you had in your head during this time, Tony, I grumped back. We're gonna need information and locations in Russia. I have a feeling we'll end up there before this is over.

  Bree sent a message, he informed me as he walked farther into Bill's suite.

  What's that?

  She said to tell you that Winkler three-point-oh and Trajan six-point-oh are now at the beach house in Port A, disguised as plain werewolves to help Dalroy and Rhett protect Kellee and Winkler's pack.

  "Oh, thank goodness," I slapped a hand over my face and spoke aloud.

  "I've made arrangements for the right calls to go to the right Tony—in both places," Zaria came to place an arm around my shoulders.

  "Thank you." I hugged her for doing what I'd have to do myself, otherwise.

  "Don't thank me yet. I think we're about to get bad news."

  "I think you're right." I pulled away from her as my skin began to itch furiously.

  Bill

  "Here's the message," Winkler handed his phone to me so I could read the note. Absently I took the device while staring at the Statue of Liberty—or what was left of it, from a NYPD harbor patrol boat.

  Zaria had transported all of us straight to New York the moment Tony and I received the message that the statue had been destroyed.

  More than a hundred tourists were unaccounted for, and that didn't include the bodies now being collected from the water by other patrol boats and the Coast Guard.

  "This makes Fort Worth look like a kid's game," Winkler growled beside me. That's when I glanced at the note he'd received.

  Come to us in forty-eight hours, and we'll hold off attacking our next target, the text read.

  "Fuck," I breathed.

  "Bill, Zaria and I have to fix this," Lissa joined Winkler beside me.

  "How?" I shook my head at her. "This will take ten years to put together, with everybody and the cook working on it."

  "Hmmph. We just need the cover of darkness, Bill."

  "What then?"

  "You have to wait and see. Oh, and arm yourself to the teeth—you and Ilya, both. Make sure all boats and the search and rescue teams are far away when we go in tonight."

  "I'll have Tony relay that to the President, and hope he agrees."

  "Do what you can. We'll work around small glitches if we have to."

  "What the fuck is she talking about?" I growled at Winkler as Lissa walked away from us.

  "No idea. Sounds pretty positive about whatever it is, though."

  "Damn. I feel like I'm in the middle of the most frustrating science fiction story ever."

  "That makes two of us. I've never seen her do some of the things she's doing, now. When those four vamps came after us at the bar in Fort Worth, I thought we had a nasty fight on our hands. Somehow, she put a shield around us, like I've seen Zaria do, and they didn't lay a claw on either of us."

  "I'm still wondering about how I'm in two places at once, and Tony, too. Although I will admit, this one is nicer than the other one by a long shot."

  "Smells the same, though," Winkler huffed.

  "Thanks for that, it's somewhat comforting."

  "Any time."

  Lissa

  We had dinner at the hotel, Tony was on the phone with the President most of the day and finally convinced him to order everybody away from the site come nightfall. Ilya had no idea what was coming, but he was ready to follow Zaria into the depths of hell if necessary.

  "Get your weapons and gear; we're about to leave," Bill announced to everyone after dinner. He pulled out his nine-millimeter, checked the clip and slid it back into his shoulder holster. Then, lifting a rifle from beneath his bed, he proceeded to check it, too.

  Ilya, dressed completely in black, was armed similarly. Tony, grinning, shoved a nine-millimeter into his shoulder holster. He didn't need anything else.

  Winkler was prepared to turn if necessary; therefore, he didn't need an extra weapon. Charles refused anything else, although Bill asked if he wanted a rifl
e. Zaria and I, well, we were self-contained, weapons-wise.

  "Time to go," I said. "I'll get us there. Zaria takes over after that."

  "What are we doing, again?" Winkler turned dark eyes in my direction.

  "Oh, we're about to meet this head-on, you might say."

  Zaria

  You will be shielded, I told Ilya in mindspeech. We'd gathered at the base of the destroyed statue, what was left of it, anyway. Just as Bill and Tony asked, all guards, patrol boats and helicopters had pulled back until they were half a mile away.

  "Time to blur their binoculars and cameras," Lissa spoke grimly before acting.

  "Huh?" Winkler gripped her hand as she stilled to concentrate.

  "It's done," she opened her eyes and nodded in my direction.

  "Now, what you don't know so far, is that the Kremlin has devised a way to reverse-engineer the alien drug—I know you know about it, Bill. Tony, too," I pursed my lips while looking from one to the other.

  "But," Bill said.

  "You guys need to stop pining after that filth," I said. "I destroyed your cache for a reason."

  Bill's eyes became round—he didn't know what happened to it. Tony didn't either—the one from the current timeline. Future Tony knew from Lissa, so he didn't have a reaction like Bill did.

  "But," Bill said again.

  "They've found a way to reverse-engineer that shit," I stated flatly. "You'll be seeing all sorts of dead folks come back to life because of it, unless I miss my guess. Now, what we're about to do in retaliation, is reverse-engineer the timeline. This shouldn't have happened," I swept out a hand to encompass the destroyed statue. "We're going into a fight, so be prepared."

  I bent time, then, to the previous evening, when six vampires who'd received a dose of Lissa's blood, along with eight werewolves, four of whom were Bart Orford clones and the rest looking like Lester Briggs, were busily placing charges while two other vampires held the night guards hostage by laying compulsion.

  You're shielded from sight, but they'll know they're being attacked the moment you start firing or removing heads, I informed the others.

  I'm on it, Lissa released her claws and prepared to turn to mist.