“Drop!” Morgan yelled.
Red hit the ground. Reaper had so much forward momentum that he ran right over the top of her and straight into Demery, burying his blade deep into the vamp’s chest. Demery clenched the knife in shock. The leader of the Sand Devils was so surprised that he didn’t try to grab the knife back.
Red jumped to her feet and rushed forward, her claws sinking into Reaper’s sides. She twisted, slicing his organs. Her jaws clamped onto his thick neck and she shook her head, shredding arteries and muscle. Reaper dropped to his knees, still facing Demery. Red released him and stepped back. She spread her claws and swiped, decapitating him in two blows. Reaper’s head rolled off his shoulders toward Morgan before coming to a stop.
Red looked at the knife sticking out of Demery’s chest and the wound she’d inflicted, then met his eyes. The chocolate color had started to glaze.
“I’m sorry, mon. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”
“I know, but it did.” Red’s jaw clenched and tears burned her eyes. “You turned my mate over to these animals. I-I saw you drinking his blood.”
He laughed, but the sound quickly faded to a cough. “I’m a vampire. What did you expect?”
Red sniffed. “I trusted you.” Her body began to turn back into its human form.
Demery looked pained, whether from the wound or from her words she didn’t know. “I would’ve never let them have you,” he said softly. “I’ve seen what they can do to a woman.” His gaze sought Melea. She was whimpering on the ground, rocking back and forth, her cheeks wet with tears.
“Did you make her the same promise?” Red asked.
He flinched, but didn’t answer. “I know I don’t have the right, but I have to ask,” Demery said, his face looking fuller than it had moments ago. His body began to swell, slowly filling up his protective suit.
Red watched horrified. The adrenaline in her veins had yet to subside.
“Not much time. You need to leave now.” Demery gritted his teeth against the pain. Blood spattered the inside of his face plate. “Please take my blood back with you. Fulfill the promise I made.”
“Get back!” Morgan shouted.
Red turned to look at him in confusion.
“He’s becoming a weapon.” Morgan pulled at the remaining chain. It finally snapped.
Red grabbed Melea and yanked her to her feet. She was weeping silently, trying to go to him.
“Let me go!” she cried.
Red pulled her away from Demery and ran toward Morgan, who met them halfway.
“I don’t understand,” Red said, forgetting all about the stories she’d heard. “What’s happening to him?” She glanced back. Demery was even bigger now. The protective suit ripped at the seams and spread like butter away from his body. His flesh had turned from dark brown to a strange red as blood pushed to the surface, forming geysers across his skin.
“He’s reacting to the sunlight,” Morgan said, tugging them away.
Demery was unrecognizable beyond his mocha eyes, which had started to bleed crimson tears. “I’m sorry,” he said, a second before he exploded.
Fleshy shrapnel shot out in all directions, catching a few of the Sand Devils as they tried to flee, killing them instantly. Morgan pushed them to the ground behind a dune, then covered them with his body. When the last of the hardened skin had fallen from the sky, they rose. Morgan led them in the opposite direction of the screaming Sand Devils, who were running into the desert.
Red looked back at the spot Demery had occupied. All that was left was bits of hair and bone. Her stomach lurched and she dropped on all fours and vomited.
“It’ll be okay.” Morgan rubbed her back. “We have to get out of here before the rest of them decide to come after us,” he said. They rounded the first low mound of sand and ran straight into Raphael, Michael, and Chaos.
“Fancy meeting you here in this paradise,” Raphael said. He gave them a once-over, then picked a hardened piece of flesh off Morgan’s shoulder. He flicked it away with his fingertips. “I take it we missed all the fun.”
“Not quite.” Red stepped forward, balled her fist, and punched Michael squarely in the face. “How could you do this to me, you son of a bitch?”
chapter twenty-eight
“W
hat in the hell are you doing?” Raphael asked, helping Michael off the ground.
Gina rounded on him, but Morgan stepped between them and grabbed her by the waist. “Why don’t you ask him?” She stabbed a finger in Michael’s direction.
Raphael turned to Michael. “Do you know what she’s talking about?”
“No idea.” Michael, brushed off his clothes. “Perhaps the sun has gotten to her.”
“It’s not the sun, you asshole. It’s my grandfather,” she cried.
“What about him?” Morgan pulled her close and stroked her hair. “Does anyone know what’s going on?”
“I have no idea,” Raphael said, looking to Catherine and Michael for answers.
Catherine shrugged and shook her head. Her hand moved restlessly to her weapon. She stared at Gina for a moment, her body tense, then looked away.
All eyes fell upon Michael.
“Don’t ask me. I have no idea why she hit me,” he said, wiping the blood off his mouth and licking it from his fingers.
“I’m surprised to see you here,” Morgan said.
Michael frowned. “Why?”
“I heard your screams,” he said quietly. “How are you feeling?”
Michael flinched and his dark eyes squinted. “As you can see, I’m better now,” he said.
“How could you?” Gina hissed. “He’s an old man.” Her voice cracked and tears clouded her eyes. The fight had drained out of her.
Morgan stared at him, looking for any sign to contradict his words. He looked like the old Michael, albeit a little sunburned, but he couldn’t forget those screams or Roark’s glee. They’d address his concerns later. First he had to find out what had happened.
“Gina, honey, calm down and tell me what’s going on,” Morgan said, pulling her back until he could look in her face. Her eyes were red and filled with unshed tears.
“I heard from the Eye of God before I left the outpost,” she said, sniffling. “But he couldn’t hear me. I tried, but the static . . .”
“It doesn’t matter now,” Morgan said, brushing the hair away from her cheeks, now wet with tears. What he’d found in Kane’s audio journals was far more damaging to Roark Montgomery than anything the Eye of God could’ve located.
“I was about to sign off when he said there’d been a worldwide announcement made. He said,” she choked. “He said Robert Santiago, leader of the International Police Tactical Team, had been kidnapped. Roark is blaming us for his disappearance.” She buried her face in his chest. “He has him, Morgan. The bastard has my grandfather.”
Morgan’s gaze burned through Michael. “Is this true?” he asked.
Michael scowled. “How the hell should I know? I’ve been in no-man’s-land for several days. The last few with Raphael and Catherine.”
Morgan looked at Raphael, who gave him a curt nod, confirming Michael’s story. “Roark has fooled us before. Maybe he’s at it again,” Morgan said.
“Do you think so?” Gina asked, wiping her face with the back of her hand.
“Only one way to find out.” Morgan looked at Michael while he rubbed Gina’s back. “I’m sure Roark sent a communications device with you. Get on it and find out if this latest transmission is true or another one of his carefully orchestrated lies.”
Michael nodded. He reached into his bag and pulled out a navcom. “This may take awhile. We’re not exactly close by.”
Morgan’s ears perked at the sound of engines roaring to life. “Save it until we get back to the outpost.”
Gina raised her head. “What about her?”
Morgan turned to the woman standing a few feet away. He’d forgotten all about Melea. The woman’s dark skin was p
ale and her eyes looked too big for her face, hollowed from the horrors she’d witnessed at the hands of the Sand Devils. She trembled and Morgan could smell her fear. It burned his nostrils, making him sick.
“Don’t worry, we will not harm you,” he said.
“She killed Demery,” Melea said, her voice barely above a whisper. “He would’ve died from the wounds she inflicted, even if Reaper hadn’t finished the job.”
He tensed. “That was unfortunate, but unavoidable given his actions,” Morgan said.
Melea wrung her hands. “He was only trying to help me,” she said, barely holding herself together.
“Had he asked, we would’ve gladly assisted him, but he chose to betray us. Given our situation that is something we cannot tolerate. Even when it’s done for the right reasons. I hope someday you’ll understand.”
Tears streaked down her cheeks and she shook her head, slowly backing away. Her fearful gaze remained locked on Gina.
“You have a choice. You can either go back to the Sand Devils or you can come with us. But if you come with us, know that we will not tolerate betrayal. Take Demery’s death as a warning.” Morgan knew he was being extremely harsh on the woman, given what she’d been through, but he had little choice. Roark had just upped the stakes exponentially. They didn’t need any more surprises. He began walking north. Morgan kept his arm around Gina and didn’t bother to see if anyone followed. He knew they would. What choice did they have?
“I will come with you,” Melea said, her voice desperate.
“Smart choice,” Morgan said. He hoped she wouldn’t regret her decision.
It was dark by the time they reached the outpost. No one had said much on the slow walk back and for that Red was grateful. She hadn’t been in the mood to talk. She couldn’t get the look on Demery’s face out of her mind. She’d seen the surprise, regret, and eventual acceptance of his impending death. The sadness lingered, haunting her.
Jonah was waiting when they returned. The guards disarmed everyone before allowing them to enter. She could’ve told them it was pointless, but she didn’t bother. It made them feel like they were in control. There was no need to shatter that illusion.
“Glad to see you’re back in one piece. More or less,” he said. “Want to introduce me to your friends?”
“This is Raphael Vega, Michael Travers, Melea, and Catherine Meyers,” Red said by way of introduction. “Everyone, this is Jonah. He runs this outpost and has been kind enough to help us.”
He shook their hands and showed them to the spare rooms so they could freshen up.
“Let’s meet back here in . . .” Red glanced at her watch. “. . . forty-five minutes. You need to send that transmission and find out what’s going on,” she said to Michael.
Thirty minutes later Michael was pressing several buttons on his navcom. His normally placid expression looked strained as he thumped the device a couple of times.
“What’s wrong?” Red asked.
“It must be the sand. It’s working intermittently,” he said, shaking it.
“Can you hail, Roark?” Red’s stomach knotted. She needed to know what was happening with her grandfather. Was Roark playing mind games or did he really have him? And if he did, what would she do? She had no problem exchanging her life for his, but would that be enough to appease Roark?
“This is Travers reporting in,” Michael said. “This is Travers, do you read?”
Static filled the air.
“Home base, this is Travers. Please respond.”
More pops and crackles blasted the silence. Red felt so helpless. What if he couldn’t reach Roark? She’d have no choice but to return to the Republic of Arizona and hope that was enough to garner his release.
“Travers report,” Roark barked.
Red jumped. “Ask him.”
Michael nodded and held up a finger. “I’ve received a broadcast claiming the commander of IPTT has been kidnapped,” he said.
There was a pause. For a moment Red thought they might have lost him. Then he spoke.
“Are you alone, Travers?” Roark asked.
Michael looked at Red, then at Morgan. They both nodded at him.
“No, sir. That’s negative.”
“Hello, Ms. Santiago. Mr. Hunter.” His smug voice grated on Red’s nerves. He was gloating. “I see you received the message I sent.”
She snatched the navcom from Michael’s grasp. “Where’s my grandfather, asshole?”
Roark chuckled. “You mean the commander?”
“You know very well who I mean,” she said.
“He’s here, keeping me company in your absence,” Roark said. “I had to ensure you’d comply to my demands.”
A strained voice as familiar as her own came onto the line. “Gina? Is it really you?”
“It’s me Grandpa,” Red said. “Don’t worry. We’ll get you out of there. Stay strong.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Roark said.
“Gina?” her grandfather repeated, sounding weaker. There was a scrape, then a loud moan.
“What have you done to him, Roark?” Red asked.
Roark chuckled. “Had to soften him up so he’d cooperate. Old fool actually thought he could come here and threaten me.”
Red brought the navcom to her mouth. “Grandpa, can you hear me?” Damn it! He had to hear her. He had to know she was coming for him. Had to know how much she loved him. “I’ll be there soon. Don’t worr—”
“Save it, “Roark said. “I’m afraid it’ll be too late. I haven’t forgotten what you did to me in that cell.”
Fear’s cold fingers enveloped her. There was some shuffling, then Red heard the hum of a laser pistol as it began to charge. “Roark, what are you doing?”
“What I should’ve done a long time ago,” he said.
A shot rang out over the connection, cutting off her words. The sound was followed by a frightened male shriek and a loud thud as something hit the floor. They heard a gasp, then a sickening gurgle. “Gi-na? help—” There was another shot, then silence.
Red’s heart pounded. For one painful moment she thought it’d exploded in her chest. She gasped and forced air into her lungs. Her fingers trembled as she shook the navcom. “Grandpa? Grandpa? Answer me this second! Damn you, Roark! What have you done?”
“Sorry, the commander is permanently indisposed.” Roark laughed long and hard as Red crumpled to the floor. “One problem down, two to go. Come back so we can finish this once and for all.”
This would never have happened if she’d stayed in the Republic of Arizona. She’d been selfish to run. Hadn’t thought about what would happen to the ones they left behind.
Red choked back her cries until an eerie calm replaced the pain. “I’ll kill you for this,” she vowed, clutching the navcom. Did you hear me?”
“Save your breath,” Roark said. “You’ll need it for your defense. That is if you make it back to the republics alive.”
She cursed loudly, clutching the navcom. It did little to alleviate the pain coursing through her, the sheer agony of losing the last member of her family. Red didn’t know how she’d survive or if she’d survive. A piece of her heart had shattered as the second shot was fired. Her limbs went numb as her mind retreated to safety. She clasped her hands around her knees and started to rock back and forth, seeking comfort where there was none.
“You’ve lost, Roark. You just don’t know it yet.” Morgan pulled Red close. “This time we’re dealing with more than our word against yours. We now have the proof to destroy you. One tiny broadcast and your political career is over,” he said, leaning into the navcom. “In the end, you may get your wish, but we’re going to take you down with us.”
“You’ll never get the message out,” Roark said, but his voice wavered a bit. “I’ve made sure of it.”
“We’ll see about that,” Morgan said.
Red glared at the navcom. “You just shot your only bargaining chip.”
“Traver
s?” Roark barked.
“Yes, sir,” Michael said.
“Remember your duty,” Roark said. “Here’s a reminder in case you forgot.”
Michael screamed as the chip in his brain sent shock after shock through his body. He fell to the floor, clutching his head, writhing in pain. “Make it stop. Please make it stop!”
“Finish your job and I will.”
Red tossed the navcom against the wall, cutting off Roark’s transmission. Michael’s pain had temporarily jerked her out of the shock that had set in. She’d done the first thing she could think of to kill the signal.
Michael stopped thrashing, his breath coming in deep gasps.
“How is the chip doing that?” Red asked, hugging herself.
“I don’t know,” Morgan said. “I’ve never heard of a chip that could do that to a man.”
She frowned. “Can we scan him to assess the damage?” Red asked.
Raphael picked up the device. “I think you broke the navcom when you threw it.”
Red ran a trembling hand through her hair, “I didn’t know what else to do. I was afraid it was going to kill him.”
“I might be able to get the navcom working again,” Morgan said. “Give me awhile. In the meantime, get him into a bunk. Try to make him comfortable.”
Michael struggled to his feet. “I’m all right,” he said. He blinked to clear the shadow people from his vision, but they refused to leave.
He blinked again, this time keeping his eyes shut for a few seconds longer. Michael cracked one lid and saw a gray shadow race across his line of vision. He opened his other eye and knew he wasn’t alone.
The shadows stood like sentries, waiting. For what, he did not know. They’d always been quick to dart out of the way, but not anymore.
“On second thought,” he said, swaying. “A short rest might do me some good.”
Michael allowed Raphael to help him down the hall. His brother’s face was pinched with worry, but he said nothing. What was there to say? Michael glanced over his shoulder as he entered the area that housed numerous bunks. The shadows waited, their ghostly faces filled with glee.
Crimson Page 25
