by Tina Moss
“No offense, Shooter, but suck it.” Slick pushed the shifter’s hands away and sat up again.
“Don’t you usually say that to vampires.” A booming voice called from the doorway.
Jame looked away from the shifters and toward the entrance as Bull walked in. The smell of worn leather followed him and permeated the room. She smiled as she ran her gaze over his button down flannel shirt, faded jeans, and tan cowboy boots. “Boy, are you a sight for sore eyes.”
“Same to you, girlie. How ya feeling?” His lazy grin revealed two rows of pearly whites. He sat at the corner of her bed and handed her a glass of water off the side table.
She gulped it down. “Been better. But that doesn’t matter.” She waved her hand as if her temporary paralysis hadn’t bothered her. Lies. “Tell us what happened.”
“Yeah, how’d you guys get us out of there?” Slick threw his legs over the side of the bed and rubbed his thighs.
Shooter coughed. “Well, technically, we didn’t.”
Bull’s dark eyes drooped, and he patted her leg. “I was called away on a lead. I wasn’t there. I’m so sorry to both of you.” The words sounded too pronounced as if he couldn’t quite manage his normal Texas swag.
“That wasn’t your fault. You were doing your job.” Shooter swiped his hand over the back of his neck and sighed. “If it wasn’t for that vampire, we might not have found you. And we wouldn’t have gotten you out.”
“The vampire?” Slick turned ashen.
“Sí. He tracked you through her blood.” He pointed at—
“Me?” Jame’s jaw dropped. She fidgeted with the stupid hospital gown. “What’re you talking about?”
“He said he’d had some of your blood earlier.”
“Wait, who?” A knot formed in her throat.
“Your informant, now prisoner. Drake.”
“Hold up.” Slick shot out of the bed, standing on shaky legs. “You’re telling me Drake bit her?”
Her hands cradled her head. She sifted between her memories, which came out fuzzy, until she remembered the instant it happened. “The cut when I was interrogating him.”
“He...sucked...your...blood?” Falling into the bed, the heart monitor beeped louder as Slick’s pulse shot up. He yanked free of the wire attached to his finger, almost ripping his IV out too.
“If he hadn’t, we still might be in that room.” Jame didn’t know what made her spring to Drake’s defense. The thought of being trapped, unable to move in that horrible place with all those fumes... “He saved our lives.”
“More than you know, chica.” Shooter shuffled over to her bed. “We couldn’t get in since the toxins targeted shifters, and only Val and I were with Drake. When I tried to follow him, I got zapped by the poisons.” He blew out a loud breath. “Paralysis, not fun, by the way.”
“No joke.” Slick rose again, pulling at wires and tubes. When he’d finished dislodging himself from the machines, he frowned. “Now, where’s my clothes?”
“You really do need to rest.” Bull crossed the room, grabbed a bag from the foot of the bed and handed it over. “Not that ya ever listen.”
“We still have a case to solve, don’t we?” He scooted his arms out of the hospital gown and flung his T-shirt over his head.
“We’ve got the vermin that attacked y’all, but our witness is missing.” Bull tried to help Slick with his clothes, but received a fist in the shoulder for his efforts. He shrugged and flipped the curtain around the bed. “Suit yourself.” Tapping Shooter, he said, “Go see where we stand, would ya?”
“No problemo.” Shooter nodded his head and wriggled his brows at her. “Feel better, chica.”
When he waved at her from the door, she called, “Thanks.” Turning to Bull, she tested her leg muscles by inching them over the side of the bed. The motion caused her head to pound like a drill against her forehead, but she gritted her teeth and stood.
“Ya goin’ to be just as stubborn?” Bull caught her under the shoulders and helped her walk to the foot of the bed.
“You know it.” She tried to smile as he fished out her clothes.
“Want me to close the curtain?” Small worry lines broke over his forehead.
“Nah. You’ve already seen me at my worst.” Wincing, she slipped the ugly blue gown from her body. “Besides, I’m not too proud to ask for help.”
He snorted. “Since when?”
“Let’s just say paralysis changes your perspective on a lot of things.” She held the gown to her chest as Bull pulled out her sports bra. “But don’t peek.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, partner.”
Being dressed by a large vampire who kept his eyes closed the entire time had her stifling snickers, especially when he thumbed her thong in his meaty fingers in confusion. He exhaled a deep breath when the last strip of clothing hugged her body. “Don’t ever make me do that again.”
“Wasn’t good for you?” She laughed.
He growled as Slick broke through the curtain.
“Everyone ready now?” Slick asked. The tag of his T-shirt stuck out under his neck.
“As soon as you fix your shirt.” She laughed harder.
Bull grabbed the hem of Slick’s shirt, flicked it up and slipped it around faster than the shifter could protest. With a curse, Slick conceded with a mumbled, “Thanks.”
As Jame broke out in hysterics, Shooter entered the room again and killed all amusement. He spoke without a breath. “Talon’s back at base. He’s on the line with Meg. She’s got something. We gotta move.”
Blood charged through her veins in a liquid rush. Her lethargy disappeared with the call to action. She buckled up her combat boots and stood tall. “Then, let’s not keep ‘em waiting.”
“Okay, Meg. Tell me,” Talon said as he paced the office.
“Press Capital Corp lists Adriana Farrington as owning a seat on its executive board. They’ve acquired several companies and properties throughout the world including,” Meg’s rapid fire clicking pounded a tap-tap-tap over the phone, “an apartment complex in Calgary.”
“Great work. What’s the address?”
“There’s a problem.”
He stopped in the middle of the room and slapped his palm against the desk. “What is it?”
“As soon as I spotted the corporation, it red flagged.” She snorted and huffed. “Agent Vanguard called soon after.”
Vanguard. His mouth went dry. If the pencil pushing, blowhard leader of Unit Four called, the situation must have taken a serious turn. The man ran Districts Eight through Ten with the savvy of a Fortune 500 CEO and the questionable tactics of a NUA politician. Hell, he made Agent Bram look like a softy. “What did he want?”
“The unit team sent out orders. All phage in positions of power or leadership are not to be brought in for any open investigations.” She lowered her voice to a soft whisper, “Something big is going down, Talon. Don’t know what it is, but they gave strict orders not to interfere.”
“If the unit leaders fearsome five want to gather evidence against these phage, that’s fine, but I’m not about to compromise Sera’s life because of it.” He grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and rushed out the door. “Now, give me the address, Meg.”
“Talon, you know I can’t do that.”
“If you want to stick to that bullshit order, so be it. But I’m getting her out of there.” He popped open another door and waved at Val to follow. She sprang up from her seat. “Please.”
Meg blew out a gulp of air. Her words came muffled as if she cupped a hand over the receiver, but he got the message. “42 Oak Tree Road.” The pencil chewing intensified. “You didn’t get this from me. And Talon?”
“Yeah, Meg?” He pushed past the front door with Val on his heels.
“Try not to make a mess of things.”
“You got it.” He stuffed his phone in his back pocket and opened the driver’s side door, but Drake already sat in the seat. “Move over.”
�
�Not a chance.” Drake growled. “You want to come to the hospital, you ride in back.”
“The team’s already on the way. Jame and Slick are okay, and coming along...despite my orders.” He scowled, then motioned for Val to go around the other side. “We’ve got a lead.
“Why didn’t you say so?” The vamp sprang over the divider and grinned from the backseat. He patted the driver’s headrest. “Hurry it up.”
Talon climbed into the truck. Shoving the key in the ignition, he glanced at Val who scrambled into the passenger’s seat. “Before we take off, you should both know,” he paused with his hand on the wheel, “the bigwigs at the top have given the mission a no go.”
“Vanguard?” she asked, cocking her head to the side.
“All of them.”
“Means trouble’s in the pipeline.” Flicking her nails, she shrugged. “Ah well. We can’t leave the girl alone, so...screw them. Let’s do it.”
He lifted a brow. “When did you start going against the rules?”
“When someone showed me you need to bend them from time to time.” She winked and waved at the dashboard. “Now, move it.”
He smirked, then turned to glance over his shoulder. “Any arguments?”
Drake raised an eyebrow. “Because I care so much about the inner workings of PCD politics.”
“Right.” He put his attention to the front again, shifted the car into drive, and slammed on the pedal. The night gave way to early morning as they took off. The gray sky dotted clouds across the horizon and blocked the sun. A cold wind swept through the car’s cracked window and ruffled his hair. Talon didn’t feel the breeze as all of his concentration centered beyond the windshield to the street ahead, on Sera.
Chapter Thirty
Apartment Complex, Calgary, Alberta
“What’re you doing here?” Sera stared wide eyed at the vampire in the opposite cell. A wry smile rested upon her pale face, hinting at the fangs underneath.
“Wish I could say I was trying to keep you out of trouble,” Strife said, tugging the vertical metal bars. They creaked, but didn’t budge. “Unfortunately, it’d be a lie. I traveled to Calgary after your grandfather informed Veritas that you’d decided to pay your father a visit.” She pulled harder, eliciting another creak from the bars, but still no movement. “I came alone, not wanting to put another of my people in danger.” Releasing the bars, she ran a hand through her straight black hair, tousling the strands. “When I spotted Adriana, I decided to follow her to scout and gather more information. But the phage hag ambushed me with her minions before I had a chance to learn anything.” She threw up her hands. “Three hundred years old and she captures me like I’m some fledgling.”
“Well, don’t feel bad. She got me too and apparently, I’m some sort of superstar.” Fire crept up her veins, lighting her insides.
Guy snorted. Your wit astounds me, superstar.
Oh stuff it. She raised the bass chords and shrugged.
“Ah, so you’ve learned of your origins, have you?” Strife shoved a shoulder between the bars.
“Uh-huh.” Her lips curled into a smile as she imagined her grandfather’s face. My grandfather. Felt nice to acknowledge it. She watched the vampire try to stuff her body through the narrow opening. A memory swarmed in the back of her mind. The van, the first time she met Strife, the conversation, her grandfather. “Strife?”
“Yes?” She didn’t look up or stop her ministrations. With her hip cocked sideways, one booted foot in the aisle and the rest of her body still in the cell, she looked like a contortionist—a bad one.
“The first time we met, when you tried to kidnap me—”
“Protect you,” she said between clenched teeth. Her fangs rested on her bottom lip and lines broke out over her forehead. Her focus shifted to expelling all the air from her lungs and making her upper body smaller.
“Yeah, protect me, whatever.” Sera waved her hand at the word choice. “Anyway, you said you knew about me from my grandfather. And again that you got a message from him saying I was in Calgary. How do you know him?”
Strife stilled. Her head snapped up. She pulled her body back into the cell with a groan. “Again, I act the fool. I’m beginning to wonder who of us is the elder.”
The fluorescent lights dimmed as if matching the sudden change in mood. Gray shadows flickered off the walls and silence permeated the room. Sera stepped forward and reached her arm between the cell bars. Four feet separated their prisons. She had no hope of reaching the vampire from her side, but for some reason she felt a strange kinship. A quiet sadness radiated from Strife’s icy exterior. It lay masked behind dark clothes and a frigid demeanor, but still it snuck out if one took the time to look. “Try not to beat yourself up. We’ll figure a way out of here.”
Their eyes met, deep black ones filled with secret pain looked into chocolate brown that hid the same buried hurts. Strife nodded, a slight incline of her head, no more, but it was enough. Sera smiled. “Now, tell me about my grandfather. How do you know him?”
“I don’t. Not personally.” Strife’s posture relaxed. Her arms dropped away from her chest and fell to her sides. Even her facial muscles eased, making her look no older than a teenager. She slipped into a more casual tone too. “He, along with his brothers and sisters, has long guided Veritas, even before my time. They give us signs and messages to help us hunt those who would harm others.” Her hands wrapped around the bars once more, but she didn’t tug at them. “It’s how we discovered you. When you experienced your power for the first time eight years ago, your grandfather feared the results. He couldn’t reach out to you as long as you continued to deny your abilities. But he believed you needed to be watched just in case. So we kept an eye on you to ensure you didn’t use your powers to the detriment of others.”
“Why not come out in the open? Why the secrecy?” A burning sensation that had nothing to do with her fire and everything to do with anger bubbled to the surface. “Why leave me alone?”
“You must understand, Sera, every supernatural comes into their power in their own way and time. If we didn’t allow you to grow, you may never have learned to control it.” She raised a slim shoulder, then let it fall. “Besides, your grandfather assured us your link to the Luminarium would manifest faster without our interference.”
“Guy,” Sera muttered.
“What?”
“Nothing.” She shook her head. “It’s just sometimes I’d rather that particular link didn’t have to be so annoying.”
“Ah. Yes, well, I’m afraid all power comes with a price.” She flashed her fangs, digging them into her lip. Two drops of blood trickled to her chin. She licked them with one quick swipe.
Yuck. Sera kept the grimace to herself, but couldn’t stop her stomach from rolling.
“Seems I’m not the only one who’s hungry.” Strife laughed a musical note like raindrops on a windowpane. “What say we get out of here?”
“Sounds good to me. Any suggestions?”
“Well, squeezing through the bars is out.” She laughed again. This time the sound rose higher and projected outward, a sound like a hummingbird’s wings on a spring breeze.
Sera smiled. “Yeah, um, maybe we can try something else.”
“Agreed.” Her black eyes widened too innocently. “Thoughts?”
Sera poked her head between the bars and scanned the aisle. The long corridor housed more cells and a door at each end. She tilted her chin and ran her gaze over the ceiling. It appeared smooth with no cameras in sight, but she didn’t doubt at least one or two remained hidden. She worried her lip, stepped some paces back in the cell and stared at the bars. Slow warmth crawled from her core, outward to her shoulders, down her upper arms, over her elbows, and into her hands. Her palms tingled with the heat. The bars blurred into a single mass as she continued to stare.
“I’ve got an idea.” Nodding to Strife, she seized the bars in the middle of the row, one in her right hand and one in her left. The metal heated un
der her touch. She kept her concentration centered on the rising fire, but called out a warning to the vampire. “Stand back. All the way back. I’m going to try something.”
Strife’s boots tapped over the floor, heading away from the aisle, toward the back of her cell. Sera didn’t lift her head. Her eyes zeroed in on the bars. She imagined them melting in a pool of liquid metal. Directing all her energy to the thought, she ratcheted up the heat until her fingers glowed and her insides morphed to molten lava.
Guy stirred. Need a boost, pet?
Sure, but don’t try to take over. I’m running the show. Sera clamped her teeth together and locked her arms.
Whatever you say. His presence faded as it sank into her mind. The merge set a blaze coursing from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. Even her hair danced in the firelight as if the strands became living flames.
She sank her feet into the floor to ground her body. The explosive burn reached a crescendo and leapt from her skin. She fought to maintain her concentration and direct the fire. “Come on. Come on.” Her pleas came out strained as she struggled with the intensity of her power. “Please.”
It’s all right, Sera. Do not be afraid. Her grandfather’s voice whispered in her ears. You can do this.
She smiled as she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. Her grandfather believed in her. She wouldn’t let him down. “Okay,” she said, bolstering her courage. “I will do this.”
The heat seeped into her skin and flowed through her bloodstream. With her mind clear and centered on her task, she controlled the fire’s path. The bars began to glow orange and red. The metal cracked under the pressure, melting in her hands. When she created a sizeable hole, she flicked her fingers toward the ceiling and aimed her palms at the opposite cell. A wave of flames shot four feet across the aisle and struck the metal bars of Strife’s prison. The temperature soared until a sweat broke out on Sera’s brow. She inhaled, allowing the warm air to soothe her, become a part of her.
