Code Black (Paranormal Crimes Division Book 1)

by Tina Moss

  A half grin played on Strife’s lips, but she remained silent.

  Sera inhaled. Straightening, she fixed the vampire with a hard stare. “What am I doing here?”

  “We hoped you would heed our early warning, but it seems that hope was misplaced.” Strife’s smile widened revealing two very pointed—and no doubt, very sharp—fangs. “We did give you until sunset.”

  The note from the hospital, the eloquent handwriting and frightening message, emerged in her mind’s eye. She recalled the way it rested on the table beside Talon’s card. Talon. She should have called him. Somehow the thought of never seeing him again hurt more than it should. She barely knew him and here her life was in danger, yet she thought of him.

  “Foolish,” she muttered, then locked eyes with the vampire. She needed to keep all her wits about her, to concentrate, not lose focus on some daydream that could never be. Evenly, she said to the vampire, “I don’t respond to threats.”

  Point for her.

  “I see.” Strife raised her chin. She waved her hand in the air as if dismissing Sera’s response. Point for the vampire. “Believe it or not, we have orchestrated this event for your protection.”

  “Event? Don’t you mean abduction?”

  Strife shifted lower, adjusting her weight smoothly as the van rocketed around another corner. “Even so, it is to your benefit.”

  The van lurched again, knocking Sera into the wall. She jumped to her feet with a curse and glared in the driver’s direction. The solid metal divider made it impossible to see him, but she imagined a hole burning into his head nonetheless. As she continued her pseudo-revenge on the driver, her ears perked up. Silence invaded and a thought snapped into sharp clarity. Strife’s icy voice filled the space. The air conditioner streaming through the vents provided the background noise. Nothing from the outside, not the van’s screeching tires as it rounded corners, or horns from passing cars could be heard from the interior of this van.

  Sera’s earlier caramel latte churned in her stomach. Her breathing increased to rapid puffs despite her best efforts for control. “Why?” She paused, trying to lose the tremor. “Why is the van soundproof?”

  As if attuned to Sera’s discomfort, Strife’s body suddenly transformed. Her black eyes softened to a gentle charcoal. The hard lines above her brows blurred into her face giving her a vibrant countenance. Light pinkish hues flourished on her cheeks. The rose and rainstorm scent increased as if emerging from a springtime sun shower.

  Sera’s mouth fell open. The perfect predator, cold and deadly or warm and alluring, a chameleon viper.

  Not so different from us, pet. The rock music quieted with Sera’s shock.

  We’re not like the vampire.

  Guy laughed. Well, at least you said we.

  Sera answered by way of calling on a Led Zeppelin guitar solo. The sharp beats vibrated across Guy’s half of their shared psyche and drowned out the pest.

  “This should put you more at ease.” Strife’s words quickened, losing the stiffness. “I don’t know all of your American idioms, but I’ll attempt to rectify my speech as well.” She placed a gentle hand on Sera’s shoulder. “I need your attention, not your fear. The fault’s mine. I’m used to interrogations.” She sighed, a more human sound than vampire. “Social settings, not my forte.”

  Sera half grinned despite her wariness. The vampire’s new demeanor did put her more at ease. “Fair enough.” She rolled her head along her shoulders and willed her nerves to settle. The tension in her muscles, however, refused to subside.

  Easy pet. Don’t be put off guard.

  I can’t think if I’m wired like a friggin’ coil. Sera clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. Stop fighting and help me relax or I’m going to alter my mind into a one-woman steel drum band.

  Not a chance. Drum solos or no. We’re staying alert with her around.

  “Pain in the ass,” Sera muttered.

  “Excuse me?” Strife sat against the van’s wall. Her long legs stretched before her, one booted ankle over the other.

  “Nothing.” She followed the vampire’s lead in adopting a friendly posture, sitting cross-legged with her hands at her sides supporting her weight. “So...” She drew circles on the floor and stifled a nervous laugh at the idiocy of the situation. “Why’d you kidnap me?”

  Strife’s cheeks reddened, a look of embarrassment for a human. But then, this creature was so not human. Hopefully, she wasn’t hungry. “Safety is our concern. We’ve known about you for some time, but didn’t pursue the matter until the murders.”

  “You’ve known what about me? Who’s we?”

  “I’ll explain.” She raised a hand as if conducting an orchestra. “Long ago, I became involved with a group known today as Veritas, the We, I spoke of. Its purpose was to protect innocence and seek truth. But today the outsiders label us vigilantes.”

  “So what’s the real deal?”

  “Our organization has been around for centuries. We are the peacekeepers, they who bring justice.” The fire returned to her gaze. Her eyebrows pulled together. “This government’s PCD is a babe compared to us. Child’s play for the humans to feel safe.” She scoffed. “We are the true...How do they put it?” She snapped her fingers. “Agents. We are the true agents. We identify criminals in our world, hunt them down, bring them to trial, and administer the punishment.”

  Judge, jury, and executioner. The lump in her throat itched. She scratched her neck and said without thought, “Sounds like vigilantes to me.”

  “No.” The quiet declaration hung in the air, before Strife cast her eyes downward. “We serve no government, no political entity, so perhaps I can see why they label us so. Yet we are far older and serve those of far more worth. Without us, humans would not fair long in this world.”

  “Ok. So let’s assume for a second I believe your group is the good guys. Who’re the bad guys? And where do I fit into this?”

  “We believe the timing of these humans’ murders was no mere coincidence. Someone wanted you there.” Her hands danced around. “And we believe that someone is phage.”

  “What?” Sera’s head reeled. “What the hell is that?”

  Strife’s next words reeked of frustration. “The phage are an ancient group as old as vampires with a radical leader at the top and several of her minions scattered over the globe. Their one unified goal is power.” Her hands stopped their butterfly movements as she crossed her arms. “We’ve been fighting them for a long time. It is only now they’ve come into the open, revealing their existence. We don’t know why.”

  “I still don’t get it. What does this have to do with me?”

  “The phage collect those to their cause they deem useful. We believe your abilities have caught their eye.” Strife shrugged. “Their leader, Reyna, has a lust for power unlike I’ve ever seen before. She is attracted to it like a moth to a flame.” A smirk drew to her lips and she winked. “And you have a tendency to burn quite bright.”

  Sera paled. Does she know about the fire? Does she know about my past? Yelling for Guy in her mind, she lowered the electric chords. He remained stubbornly silent. With no answers from the parasite, she tried to pry the vampire for more information. “How could they possibly know about me?” She stood up, bending so as not to hit her head on the van’s roof. “And for that matter, how do you?”

  “Your father’s political interests may have caused certain files to leak.” She motioned for Sera to sit down, but did not pursue the matter when ignored. “But we knew of it long before from your grandfather.”

  Her eyes widened. A look of pure shock etched on her face. “My grandfather?” The memory of the luminescent man, whispering of family ties, ghosted across her mind—the car accident, the hospital, even moments ago in the van. Could he be real?

  “Yes.” The last word rattled between them as an explosion above cut their conversation. The van’s roof ripped apart, raining down metal debris. A second later, the vehicle collided with something
outside. It folded like an accordion, killing the driver on impact and pitching them both into the divider. Even Strife, with her vampire speed, could not block the force. They fell backward after the initial jolt, knocking into each other and collapsing onto the floor.

  The outside commotion assailed Sera’s ears. Cars skidded across the pavement, horns blared, people screamed, the van’s engine cracked. She struggled to orient herself against the onslaught. Moonlight crept through the hole in the roof like a ghostly specter. Her vision adjusted gradually giving time for the creatures to swarm the van and gaze down at her from above. Time slowed and sped up in the same breath.

  The fire began to rise inside her. “Shit. Not now.” Her muscles contracted and released in deadly waves. She clamped down the growing flames, waved a dismissive hand at the roof, and checked on Strife. The vampire lay flat on her back, her body motionless. Blood gushed from her head. “Double shit.”

  Leave her. Let’s get this over with. Guy struck a match inside her brain.

  Her conscience gnawed at her. The vampire had abducted her, so she really had no reason to feel pity. “It would serve you right.” The words fell hollow. “But you’ve got some information I want. Guess I don’t have a choice then,” she said aloud, more for Guy than herself. Despite the vampire’s wrongdoings, she wouldn’t leave someone to die. That happened only once, but once was too much.

  She steeled her spine. “Ok, Guy. Let’s do this.”

  Yes, finally. Time for a party.

  “First things, first.” Sera grabbed her pink platforms. The four-inch sandaled wedges would not be ruined today. She flung the pair one at a time through the roof, purposely missing the bastards above—no reason to risk the shoes falling back inside, even if they did make a nice weapon.

  The next part required a bit of acrobatics as the creatures began to jump inside the van. The small space became suffocating too quick. Sera dived to avoid a bite by one of the sicko’s gaping jaws. Landing close to Strife, she hefted the vampire onto her shoulder in a fireman’s grip. She let the fire swim in her, banking on the strength from her supernatural side. Adrenaline blocked her emotions and let her mind focus on the task.

  Guy squealed like a teenage girl in glee. “Get a life,” she muttered as she jumped. Strife’s extra weight made the task more difficult and she had to grab the sharpened edge of the blown out roof. The creatures flocked to her within a second. Light began to flow from her body in rays.

  “Not yet. Not yet. Not yet,” she cried. Using her legs for momentum, she swung her body weight forward. She kicked off the van’s corner and sailed through the opening. Once her feet touched the exterior of the metal roof, she adjusted Strife on her shoulder and dove for the street. When her feet touched bottom, she wasted no time. The creatures pursued her.

  After running two blocks from the scene, she propped Strife in a sitting position against a mailbox. The vampire’s head wound had already begun to clot. With pursuers on her heels and her power spiraling beyond her control, Sera raced further away from the attack. As she searched for an empty alleyway, she tried to dissuade any onlookers from following by casting rays of light outward. The action, hopefully, would result in the area heating up to a degree humans couldn’t enter.

  Four more streets and a quick curve to the right provided Sera with the perfect spot. A narrow passage with warehouses on either side stretched half the length of a football field to a chain link fence. The dead-end street gave Sera the ideal cover. “Ok, you bastards, time for a show.”

  Sit back and relax, pet. It’s my turn.

  “Not this time. We do this my way. I stay in control or I’ll fry us both.”

  A low laugh reverberated through her body. Glad to see you’re growing a backbone. Ok then, your way.

  Fire filled her veins, her blood boiling in every limb. Her hair ignited in orange flames. The inner barrier fell away, allowing Guy to sweep over her mind. Whenever she’d allowed this before, he’d taken control, merging them into one being with him at the helm. Not this time. They came together, unifying into one, but she felt every inch of the energy. She stayed at the wheel. The intense heat liquefied her muscles and organs, causing a scream to rip from her. The raw undiluted power made what was left of her stomach reel, but her feet remained glued to the ground. She’d ride this wave, even if it killed her.

  The creatures hesitated on the outskirts of the alley. With precarious control, she managed to rein some of the fire into her body. The swarm moved closer, but not enough. Concentrating, she shifted the flames to a subdued yellow light, the type you’d find streaming down from the moon on a hazy summer evening. The beasts howled their victory as if they’d already won. Their eyes widened with their unnaturally shaped jaws. The smell of rotten flesh wafted from them like a sickly perfume.

  When they reached within arms’ length of Sera, she let go. The soft light shot into five-foot flames, covering the creatures. They howled again, this time a ravenous cry of agony. The dangerous shift caused her to drop to her knees, but she kept the fire burning. It tugged at her bones, drawing strength from the pieces of her body, but still she held on.

  As the creatures retreated down the alley and the last of their cries left her ears, she pulled back. The flames refused to recede, continuing to feed off her. She fought against the heat and pictured it returning to her. Still it grew, battling her will as if it possessed a life of its own. Her mind spun. “There’s got to be a way,” she said. The words came out raw. Soon she couldn’t even breathe.

  Her vision began to fade to black. Small beads of light danced in front of her eyes. A kind, familiar voice whispered from the darkness. “Time grows short. You must stop fighting.” Her family. Her Grandfather. Weird to call him that. His words rang in her ears. She couldn’t tell if she recalled them from memory or if he sought her again. “Stop fighting.”

  “I can’t. I’ll die.” Even now, the last slice of oxygen left her lungs. Her body flowed to the pavement like water. It would end here. Midnight hair, high cheekbones, and a solemn yet luscious mouth formed in her mind’s eye. Once again with no warning, Talon’s face appeared in her darkest hour. It made no sense. This attraction wasn’t rationale, wasn’t logical. It was a fantasy and nothing more. So, why in her last moments did she think of him? She didn’t have time to ponder as the energy faded from her.

  With no fight remaining, she stopped. Stopped fighting, stopped breathing, stopped trying, just stopped. The fire ratcheted into her core, a semi-truck running over every square inch of her. Invisible spiders danced along her skin. At least it’s not melted, she thought as the fire caressed her. She tried to flick the imaginary insects away. The movement brought her attention to her hands, her wrists, her arms. “I did it.”

  The startling revelation brought tears to her eyes. She’d finally done it. She’d controlled the fire, not Guy. “I’m free.” Her insides warmed with contentment instead of rage.

  Not quite, pet.

  Sera cursed. As she determined the most obnoxious metal music she could conjure, Guy directed her mind to the end of the alley. Her heart pounded against her ribs. The pulse at her wrists throbbed. A set of wild blue eyes locked on her. She kicked up the bass to ten, blocking out Guy’s taunts, and prayed her new control over the fire would last.

  Chapter Nine

  En Route To Tip-Off Locale, Phoenix, Arizona

  Talon’s ears buzzed. The bar to the location of Drake’s mystery caller turned out to be less than two miles away. With the bikes blazing over a hundred MPH, the trip took under a minute. It wasn’t nearly enough time for Talon to get the wolf under control.

  When Drake passed a five-car pile-up complete with a burning van at the center, Talon didn’t even blink. If he had any of his wits left, he would have stopped, lead or no lead. The wolf refused to allow it. His animalistic impulses—a lure for all shifters—hadn’t controlled him in years, but the strain of this case, his illogical and primal attraction to Sera, and the vamp’s taunts proved hi
s breaking point.

  “Ease up, buddy. I don’t need you causing an interspecies war here.” Drake’s voice sounded like gravel through the headset, but with their bikes feet apart, even that small bit of technology was unnecessary. Talon’s increased hearing picked up sounds as far as a quarter mile away. “You need to change back. If you go beast on me, we’re not going to catch this break.”

  The Harley eased off, coming up a yard shy of a corner mailbox. Talon followed suit, trying to slow down his breathing along with the bike. Shedding his helmet, he squeezed his eyes shut and repeated, “Steady.” The word bounced around his brain, pushing the shifter urges to a dull humming.

  “I’m almost there. Give me another minute,” Talon said. The hairs on his limbs began to recede.

  “No problem. Our contact is staying in the shadows until I give the high sign.” Drake hopped off his ride and leaned against the mailbox. “Take your time, but not too much.”

  The call of the wolf, the howling in his head, mixed with his mantra, making it difficult to focus. As a full shifter, Talon’s ability to turn linked directly to his emotions. Most of the time, he used strategy to choose the animal based on the situation. When his anger increased, however, a wolf’s fury surged forth. Once unleashed, the beast grew almost impossible to harness. He needed to calm down.

  “Steady.” The word lacked conviction.

  “Listen, Talon.” Drake’s tone dropped, a hint of the vamp’s true strength emerging. His cadence grew formal. “I humbly apologize,” a smirk radiated in his voice, “for riling you up.”

  The uncharacteristic move from the cocky vamp provided the balm for Talon’s anger. The drive to kill dissipated along with the shift. Rubbing at a knot in his neck, he said, “Don’t piss me off again.”

  “Roger that, chief.” Drake winked, then glanced over Talon’s shoulder to a silhouette between two buildings. His index and middle fingers scraped past his fangs, resting on either side of his tongue. A sharp whistle brought the concealed figure out of hiding.