The Shadow Box: Paranormal Suspense and Dark Fantasy Thriller Novels
Page 7
Kate wrapped her towel around her. “Hey.”
He studied her face a moment. “You all right?”
She tucked a corner of her towel in to keep it around her, then took up her brush and ran it through her hair. “Worried about Jess is all.”
“She’ll probably be back in time for dinner.”
Instead of looking at him, she watched herself in the mirror while she brushed her hair. She hadn’t told him about her visit to Ryan’s house. Alec didn’t know much about Jessie’s father and Kate preferred to keep it that way. Telling Alec what Jessie was up to would make it hard not to breach the subject. “I’m sure you’re right.”
He came close to her, put his hands on her shoulders and massaged.
She set down her brush and closed her eyes, trying to enjoy the contact. It felt good.
But nothing like the way he could touch me.
Kate tried to squelch the thought, but it had already tainted her mind like an oil slick on water.
Alec stopped massaging. “What?”
“Nothing. Why?”
“You went tense. Did I hurt you?”
A deep breath and a conscious effort to loosen her muscles in her neck and shoulders. Somehow she managed. She turned to face Alec, kissed him gently on the lips. “I don’t know where I’d be without you.”
“Who said anything about being without me?”
“I’m just saying you’re really important to me. I love you.”
He smiled. He slid one of his hands down along her neck and then hooked his fingers into the towel along the tops of her breasts. “I love you, too.” He tugged just enough to make the towel drop away to the floor.
She leaned against him and kissed him hard, could feel him responding immediately. They wasted little time getting him undressed. He lifted her onto the bathroom counter and pushed himself inside of her.
Kate closed her eyes and concentrated on the growing warmth below. But in the darkness behind her eyelids she saw his face. And when she climaxed, it took every bit of her strength to keep from calling out his name.
Craig.
Chapter Twelve
The wall adjacent to the one with the display case had a window facing the street. Lockman moved to the window and peered through curtains as sheer as wedding veils. A black SUV, tinted windows, sat double parked a few cars down from their stolen Town Car.
“Did they see you?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Probably. I was just standing out there when they pulled up. How could they have found us?”
Lockman ignored the question and turned to the woman in the pinstriped pantsuit.
She looked mildly puzzled, but not the least bit alarmed. This was Vegas. She had probably dealt with all sorts of odd couples. “I take it someone doesn’t approve of the relationship,” she said without a trace of judgment herself.
“You have a back way out of here?”
“Of course. Would you like me to stall for you?”
“It’s probably better if you leave too.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“I’m sure you’ve seen your share of freaks, but the freak show about to come through your door will make everyone else look like amateurs.”
“Please. How bad can they be?”
“They’ll probably be armed.”
One eyebrow quirked up. “In that case…” She moved to a small, ornate desk in one corner, reached into a drawer, and pulled out a nickel-plated .45 almost as big as she was. She racked the slide. “I’ll be ready.”
“Only in Vegas.” Lockman grabbed Jessie by the arm and pulled her with him into the chapel proper, which amounted to six rows of pews and a raised platform at the head of the room with a small podium. Not nearly as gaudy as one would expect, but this was probably the empty canvas upon which to paint the Vegas wedding only true lovers could appreciate.
The chapel owner followed them in and pointed to a door by the podium. “Through there is a small dressing room and a fire exit to the back lot. And don’t worry. Love defies age. I can tell you two were made for each other.”
Jessie made a gagging sound. “Gross.”
Lockman pulled her down the aisle. “You ever get married in a place like this, I’ll deny having any part in your creation.”
“Wouldn’t change much on my end, would it?”
He noticed the bitterness in her remark. More than her usual sarcasm. He stayed focused and led her out the back, both of them squinting in the blazing sunlight.
They stood in a small lot with space enough for three cars. Two of the spots were taken by a red Ferrari and a white cargo van.
“Are we really going to leave her to face them?” Jessie asked.
Lockman guided her to the cargo van and checked the driver’s side door. Unlocked. “She didn’t want to come.”
“She doesn’t know what’s gonna come through her door.”
“And I didn’t have time to convince her.” He climbed behind the van’s wheel and went to work hotwiring. “Get in.”
“You can’t just leave her.”
“Listen to me. I can only save so many lives in a single day. Right now my priority is reconnecting with my people and getting you safe.”
“I didn’t ask for your protection.”
He got the van started. The motor chugged reluctantly at best. “She’s fine. They’ll probably question her and move on. But we have to make sure we’re gone. Now.”
He no sooner said it when the man in the suit stepped out the back door. He looked no more threatening than a salesman. The oddest feature on him was the thick beard and dark eyebrows. The man spotted them at the van and stalked toward them.
Jessie shaded her eyes with a hand and watched him head over.
“Get in,” Lockman said.
“Maybe that’s one of your people.”
“It isn’t.”
“How do you know? Isn’t this supposed to be your contact place?”
“Not anymore.” He grabbed her and pulled her into the van, lifting her over his lap and tossing her into the passenger seat. He threw the van in gear and stamped on the gas pedal.
The man in the suit froze.
Lockman drove the car right into him.
Jessie threw her hands over her eyes. “Oh my God, what are you doing?”
The man clung to the hood even after impact.
Lockman kept on the gas and smashed into the back wall of the chapel, pinning the man in the suit between the front of the van and the building.
The man jerked and spat blood across the van’s dirty white hood.
Lockman kept his eyes locked on the man’s. They stared at each other for a handful of seconds. Then the man gave Lockman a bloody smile and reached forward. His hands bubbled and morphed. Hair the color of steel wool grew over his knuckles and the backs of his arms. His fingertips drew into long talons.
“Great.” Lockman threw the van in park and cut the engine. “Out.”
He flung open his door and dragged Jessie out behind him. She must have caught a glimpse on her way of the shifting creature because she screamed and came along a lot more easily.
“What’s that?” she asked as they crossed the parking lot to the Ferrari.
“No interest in hanging around to find out.”
This time he didn’t have to tell her to get in the car. She hopped into the passenger seat and fastened her seatbelt without further comment.
It took a little longer to get the Ferrari started, but he liked the sound of its engine a lot better than the van’s. Of course, a Ferrari wasn’t the low profile kind of vehicle he would prefer. Beggars, in this case, couldn’t be choosers.
The van started to shimmy and shake on its axles from the beast’s efforts to work its way free.
Lockman peeled out of the lot and didn’t look back. But he heard the squeal of twisting metal echo behind them.
They blew by the parked SUV belonging to their pursuer. Lockman felt tempted to stop and
look for some weapon or clue he might use for a counter attack. He wasn’t sure the shape shifting monster couldn’t get free, though. He had no desire to see the thing fully transformed. Sharp teeth probably played some role.
“How did they find us?” Jessie asked again.
He resisted flooring the Ferrari. Last thing they needed was to get pulled over for speeding. But he pushed the speed limit, wanting to get as far away from the chapel as possible.
“Either they somehow knew that address used to be a safe haven—”
“Used to be?”
“Yes. We’re on our own.”
She whispered something under her breath and chewed on a thumbnail.
“They could be tracking us as well. Can’t be the cars. Can’t be anything on me or they would have come long ago.”
“You think it’s me.”
“It’s the only explanation.”
“Like, what? They somehow planted a tracking device on me? How would they even know I exist if you didn’t?”
“I’ve been asking myself that for a while now.”
“What are we going to do?”
“You have to tell me how you found me. No more screwing around.”
She nodded. When she spoke, her voice shook. “Okay, yeah. I hired a private detective. He tracked you down.”
“Tracked me down how?” Lockman took the next right, a random decision, and checked the rearview for any sign they were being followed.
“He wouldn’t say. I had money saved that I’d been planning to use to hire someone to find you. The guy I picked found you after a few days.”
“How did you find this guy?”
“Yellow pages. I chose the place with the office closest to home since I had to walk there.”
None of it made sense. “And he wouldn’t tell you how he found me?”
“He said not to ask because he couldn’t tell me. I figured he might have done something less than legal, so I didn’t push the issue. Whatever he did, obviously it worked.”
“We have to go see this PI.”
“What? Why?”
“I have to know how he found me.”
“Why is that so important?”
Lockman didn’t answer for a moment, troubled by what it meant. He took a few more random turns, always making sure to put more distance between them and the chapel, and always weary of any sign they had a tail.
“Because it means someone gave me up. Someone I know. Someone I trusted.”
He could feel Jessie’s gaze on him, smell the fear in her sweat.
“I have to know who.”
Chapter Thirteen
Vampires. Filthy fucking things.
Dolan stood in the middle of the abandoned factory they had commandeered as headquarters in Detroit—thanks to the good mayor. The place used to produce auto parts for one of the Big Three. But the Big Three weren’t so big anymore, and this once glorious monument of industry had turned into another shell hollowed by a failing economy. Times had grown so deplorable, only a visionary such as Dolan, willing to tap into power others feared so much they denied its existence, could save this Nation from itself. One city at a time.
The vampire that called itself Harper stood with its two surviving companions, recently returned from Los Angeles. Their wrinkled, flaking skin. Their yellow eyes. Crooked mouths full of jagged fangs. Ugly enough to turn the strongest of stomachs.
“One man and a little girl,” Dolan said. “Mortals.”
“He knew our weaknesses. He was prepared for our attack.”
Dolan shook his head. “Excuses. You are supposed to be strong. Vampire. Craig Lockman is a mere mortal. But you let him kill more than half your unit. And then you broke protocol and nearly killed him.”
“I won’t feel shame over my bloodlust. It is a sacred state of mind for my people.”
“It’s sloppy and animalistic. Your kind may walk on two legs like mortals, but you’re nothing more than beasts.”
One of Harper’s companions bared its fangs and growled. The irony of that response was clearly lost on the thing.
Dolan sighed through his nose. This setback would cost them. He turned to Father Eberly, who stood fully dressed for Mass with a large golden cross on a staff in one hand and a bible in the other. Several ampoules of holy water hung on a band wrapped around one of the priest’s arms.
If you worked with vampires, you needed a holy bodyguard. Just good business.
“Father, please lead these men to their payment, as promised. I’m done with their services.”
Harper stepped forward. “Give me another chance. We won’t let him get away again.”
“Didn’t you hear me? I am still paying you for your trouble. There’s no need for you to worry about the matter further.”
“I cannot accept payment for a job I didn’t complete.”
Dolan smiled. “A prideful vampire? I never thought I’d see the day.”
“There is much of my kind you don’t understand. Don’t assume you know us.”
“I assumed no such thing.” He twisted his lips to one side as if thinking over the vampire’s offer. “Very well. But you must feed first. The promised virgins await you. Consider it a retainer.”
The one that had growled at Dolan rubbed at its crotch and licked its lips.
Dolan averted his gaze before his contempt showed too plainly on his face. “Father. Take them to their meal.”
Father Eberly nodded and strode away without a word, his robes whispering across the concrete floor.
Dolan stepped aside and gestured for them to follow the priest. The three vampires filed in behind Father Eberly and Dolan took up the rear.
They went through a locker room filled with rusted and dusty lockers. Some still held tattered jumpsuits left behind by the men and woman forced out of employment when the plant closed.
Once through the locker room they entered an open shower with several faucets spaced along the tiled walls. The floor had years of grit corroding the tiles. A series of round drains ran down the center of the room.
At the far end, handcuffed to the showerheads above them, stood a pair of naked girls barely over eighteen. All three vampires made a purring sound at the sight of the women.
The women had rubber ball gags, but at the sight of the vampires they screamed with their eyes. They thrashed and twisted like a pair of hooked bass.
The growler gave Dolan a nasty over-the-shoulder glare. “Only two? But there are three of us.”
“Are you telling me you can drain a single human by yourself?”
“I’m just saying.”
Harper inhaled deeply through his flattened nose. “Don’t mind Parish. He likes to complain. This will be most adequate.”
The third vampire toed one of the drains in the floor. “Smart having them in here. Easy clean up.”
“Of course,” Dolan said and nodded to the priest. “We’ll leave you to your meal.”
Dolan and the priest left the showers. Dolan closed and bolted the door on the way out. The two men walked through the shadows of the quiet factory until they came to the boiler room. A cross painted in gold adorned the main water tank.
“The blessing is complete?” Dolan asked as he stepped up to the shut-off valve to the building’s water.
Father Eberly nodded.
Dolan wrenched the shut-off from the closed to open position. Beforehand, all of the faucets in the showers had been turned to full blast.
It took but a second before the inhuman screams echoed through the empty factory.
Dolan tilted his head and listened. He mentally thanked Hitler for inspiring such an ingenious way to exterminate vampires.
When the screaming stopped, Dolan turned to Father Eberly. “Have one of our mortals check on the women. If they’re untainted, we can use them for a future sacrifice.”
The priest bowed and left the boiler room.
Dolan drew his new cell phone and dialed. Two rings before the voice on the other end said
, “Now’s not good.”
“I’m sure I don’t care. Your information was accurate, but I’ve met with some complications.”
“What you get for using supernaturals.”
“We’ll see. I think it’s time to bring the dog home.”
A moment of silence. “You sure?”
“Yes. Everything is coming together. Lockman’s the only missing piece. We have no reason to hold back now.”
“I’ll arrange the pickup myself.”
“You sound worried.”
“Not at all.”
“Don’t give up on me now. You’ve come a long way.”
“You don’t have to remind me.”
“Good.” Dolan ended the call and started for the showers. He was curious to see what remained of a vampire after a long shower in holy water.
Chapter Fourteen
Lockman used an emergency credit card to purchase two tickets from McCarran International to Detroit Metro Airport. He let Jessie take the window seat. He’d rather have easy access to the aisle, not sure when or how they might run into Dolan’s men again.
The four-hour flight went by without incident. Lockman felt the smallest twinge in his gut as they descended. He had no issues with flying. The nervousness came from something else. He tucked the feeling aside. Compartmentalizing emotions was another trait of the survivor. A trait, he’d painfully learned, Jessie did not posses in equal amounts as her good instincts. Probably all those teenager hormones roiling inside of her. It meant Lockman would have to take extra care to control his own emotions in order to make up for her lack.
No problem.
Lockman rented a compact car from the desk at the airport. Just as he had when he bought the plane tickets, he used the credentials under his assumed identity. Even if he wanted to, he possessed nothing showing him as Craig Lockman. As far as all the paperwork went, Lockman no longer existed. But already he found himself comfortable with the old name. Almost missed it.
He closed down that thought, smiled at the woman behind the rental counter as she handed him the keys, then left the airport with Jessie.