“I’m not supposed to talk to you.”
“Yeah, and you probably weren’t supposed to let me go to the bathroom either.” She hoped that wasn’t the wrong thing to remind him of. “But you were nice enough to help out. There’s no telling how long we’ll be stuck in there together. It would be nice to have a name to put with those eyes…err…I mean, face.”
Laura calculated the odds of making a connection with the man and figured they were slim to zero. Her fake Freudian slip was most likely too over the top, and she mentally kicked herself. He paused, and she prayed that he didn’t hurt her. She heard the door open, and he guided her back to her seat and tied her ropes to the back of the heavy wooden chair. She heard him throw the lock on the door again and retake his seat. She lowered her head knowing that she blew her chance at gaining any information with this guy when he finally spoke.
“My name is Marco. Just…don’t let them know I told you.”
She smiled to herself under the hood and nodded slightly. “Your secret is safe with me, Marco.”
*****
“How can you go with us if it’s a full moon?” Foster found his strength again and pushed himself out of his chair. He stared at Jack disbelievingly, his eyes wide. “You’ll shift and nobody will be safe. Not even you, brother.”
Jack stood and crossed his arms over his wide chest. “There are ways of being able to control the Halfling during a full moon.” He smirked at Paul then turned back to the papers scattered across the table. “Be thankful that I can. Otherwise, you’d be first on my list.”
“Is that a threat? Was that a…did he just threaten me?”
“Calm yourself.” Thorn stepped to the doorway and accepted the tray with the blood and two cups with saucers. “Here, have a drink.”
Paul kept turning a wary eye toward Jack but stepped aside and accepted the cup of warm blood from Rufus. “I don’t trust that one,” he muttered as he lifted the cup to his mouth.
“I can hear you, ya know.” Jack never looked up, but he couldn’t help but find the humor in the situation. He loved putting people like Paul in uneasy situations.
Foster sipped at the concoction and his eyes grew wide. “Oh my…”
“It’s good, oui?”
“It tastes almost exactly like human.” He narrowed his gaze at Rufus, his brows knitting together. “You’ve been holding out on me, haven’t you? You’ve got human livestock somewhere?”
Rufus chuckled lightly. “Non, I assure you, it is a mixture of animal bloods.”
Paul tilted the cup back and sucked at it greedily. Rufus held his hand up, “Wait! You still want to drink it slowly. If you are not used to animal blood, it can tighten your stomach.”
Foster was breathing hard as he stared at the pitcher. “More,” he gasped. “Please.”
Rufus refilled the cup and Paul could feel his stomach beginning to sour on him. “Drink it slowly,” Rufus warned. “Or you’ll be hugging the sink.”
Paul’s hand nearly shook as he sipped at the blood and savored the flavor. “I must know how this is done.”
“I shall see to it that your chef is trained in the proper…”
“Chef?” Paul stared at Rufus. “I have no chef. Just a butcher that saves me the blood from his kills.”
Rufus patted his shoulder. “Then I shall ensure you get the recipe. It is a mixture of bovine, pork and sheep’s blood.”
Jack looked up from his paper and pulled the pencil from his mouth, “All the major food groups.”
Paul fought the urge to throw something and ordering Jack to ‘fetch’, which probably saved his own life. He settled on giving the man a hateful stare as he sipped from his cup. “So, the two of us are going to walk your…bodyguard, right up the steps and into the Council’s chambers?”
“Non, not quite.” Rufus set his cup aside and settled back in his chair. “Jack has come up with a plan that I think will be most effective.”
Paul turned to Jack who rolled up some of the papers and wrapped a rubber band around them. “We three will be doing just that.” He placed the papers aside and pulled another set from those scattered on the table and began rolling them up. “Meanwhile, I’ll have specialized troops waiting on the roof to come in through the skylight if they decide to give us any grief.”
“Troops?” Paul looked to Rufus who simply nodded. “Like your hunter buddies?”
“Perhaps.” Jack put the papers away and turned his attention to the two vampires. “But with this meeting being on a full moon, odds are they’ll be busy. If I can’t borrow any of them, I’ve called in a favor to get some other heavy hitters.”
“Like who?”
“That’s need to know and you don’t need to know,” Jack stated matter-of-factly.
“Really?” Paul turned to Rufus, looking for support. “I’m supposed to march into the Council chamber with you two unprotected, and I can’t know who we’ll have for back up?”
“Nobody said you’d be unprotected. Besides, it’s Rufus that has the edict on his head. Not you.” Jack leaned against the table and gave Paul a cold stare. “Rufus may think you’ve changed and you’re a wonderful person, but I know better.”
“Enough!” Rufus stood and glared at Jack. “Not in my home.”
Jack slowly eased back then finished gathering the papers off of the table. “You’re right.” He stepped from behind the table and nodded to Rufus, “If you’ll excuse me.”
Both vampires watched him walk out, and Paul turned to Rufus, “You allow him to behave like that?”
Rufus sighed and settled into his chair. “It is a very complicated relationship, mon ami.” He stared off for a moment, his mind going back to the numerous times Jack had saved his life. And what it had cost him. “He is only looking out for what he believes is my best interest. And he means well.”
“He’s rude.”
Rufus snorted a laugh and held a hand to his mouth. “Oui, he is that. But he is also very good at what he does, and he has thwarted numerous attempts on my life from those who would see the edict followed through.” Rufus tapped on the table absently as he thought about Jack and his crude ways. “He may be rough around the edges, but he is quite effective.”
Paul watched Rufus as he pondered his situation. He picked up his cup again and took a sip of the slowly congealing blood. “I just hope that the barbarian doesn’t get us killed in Geneva.”
*****
The flat black HH-60G Pave Hawk settled in low and slow to deposit the operators on the ground. The side door slid open and Ronald Lamb blocked the exit. “Creeping the deck.”
“Welcome to New Mexico,” Jacobs stated into his lip mic as he came up behind his former teammate.
“Cut the chatter, boys. Save the coms for priority traffic,” Spalding interjected.
A short laugh could be heard through their ear pieces. “That’s telling them, Team Leader. You are clear. Repeat, you are clear to pound the ground.” Jericho Jones’ voice crackled across to the squad.
“Copy that, OPCOM. Keep an eye on things up there. Let us know if anything changes on the target site.” Spalding disembarked the helicopter last and banged on the door as it was sliding shut. “We are clear.”
The squad mobilized a hundred yards from the landing zone and Donovan pulled the topographical map of the area. “This is the target sight we covered in the briefing. It’s about three clicks due west.” The topo map indicated a small creek and scrub between them and the target.
Spalding glanced to the rapidly fading sun and pulled the sleeve up on his BDU blouse. “The sun is almost set. They’ll be active pretty doggone quick.” He looked at his men. “We have two choices. We can hoof it over there and try to catch them with morning wood and sleep in their eyes, or we can take it slow and easy and ambush them on their way back from the hunt.”
Jacobs shook his head. “While I’m not one to kill a guy with morning wood, I’m also not too keen on letting these dirt bags hunt any more than we have to. One mo
re life saved…and all that.”
Lamb nodded. “Agreed.”
Little John gripped his SCAR. “I’m up for a nice evening run.”
Spalding turned to Donnie. “Donovan?”
“You know me, boss, you hang the carrot out in front and I’ll follow. Whatever you say goes.” He shifted his pack knowing full well they were about to go for a run in the New Mexico scab.
“Then let’s do this. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can put these suckers down.” Darren stood up and pointed at Lamb and Jacobs, “Two-by-two standard formation. Donnie, cover our six.”
“Hoo-yah,” the three ex-SEALs called back.
Little John had little trouble keeping up with the pace set by the two smaller men in front. His long legs maintained a long, slow gait, covering more ground in less time, the pack on his back a mere distraction. His mind wandered as he and Spalding followed the two others and he replayed the numerous life choices that lead him to this moment. This time and place. Like all times that he thought about where he had ended up, his mind always found a way to take him back to his childhood…and her.
Lamb and Jacobs both slowed, lowering their bodies closer to the ground, their closed fists going into the air. Spalding and Sullivan followed suit. He never even heard Donovan behind them but he knew the man was still back there. The group slowly spread out and converged on the mud-brick building ahead of them. An abandoned church with the walls still standing allowed for many possible rooms to clear.
According to their intelligence, there could be up to thirty vamps in this group. Most likely baby vamps based on the mess they made and their lack of concern in hiding the bodies.
Lamb and Jacobs broke left and began working their way around the west end of the structures. Spalding and Sullivan broke right and began to cover the east side. Donovan settled in beside a low mesquite bush and used a tumbleweed for added cover. Spalding keyed the coms, “OPCOM, release air support.”
“Releasing air support in two mikes,” Jones replied. “Apologies, Team Leader, you got there faster than I expected. The Predator isn’t quite prepped yet.”
“Affirmative, OPCOM. Two mikes,” Spalding sighed heavily and glanced across the openness to the other two operators. “You heard the man. If this hits the fans before the drone gets here, we have to hold them.”
“Copy that,” was the whispered reply.
“I’ve got a good bead on the alcove, but no altitude for sight coverage,” Donovan reported.
“Copy that. Just do the best you can. We’ll mop up the rest.” Spalding turned to Little John. “You ready for this?”
Little John displayed no emotion as he faced his Team Leader. “I was made for this.”
Spalding keyed his mic once more, “Bravo units, let’s light ‘em up!” He watched as each man pulled UV grenades and began lobbing them deep within the building. Shattered doorways, windows and hallways exploded with blue-white light as the grenades went off, and the screams that followed made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.
*****
Damien pushed the tarp from the two of them and felt the dirt slide to the side. He could feel Rachel beside him, still cold from her slumber. One glance from under the old 4X4 and he could tell that it was deep into the night once more. He really had no idea how late it truly was. “Wake up. We’ve slept too late.” He pushed slightly at her shoulder and began to crawl out from under the truck.
“What time is it?” Her voice sounded sleepy as she rolled over and followed him out into the cold night air.
“I don’t know, but it’s late into the night. We need to make up time.” He waited until she was clear and then pulled the tarp out and folded it, placing it back into the rear of the old Range Rover.
“How much further?” She stretched and he admired her form in the moonlight.
“I’m not sure, exactly. But once we retrieve these pieces, we need to book passage on a ship or something.” He opened the door and held it for her. “Our last stop should be Italy.”
“Italy?”
“Rome, actually. If my sources are correct.” He turned the key and started the old truck, backing it away from the trees and back onto the goat trail that was called a road.
“I hate Rome.” She crossed her arms over her ample chest and stared out the window. “Hateful city.”
“Things have changed in the past few millennia.” He tried not to smile at her as she pouted.
“Oh, I’m sure they have. But it’s still a hateful city.” Her memories betrayed her and forced their way back to the forefront of her mind. The emotions and the pain of the confrontation, the torture, the trials, and her ultimate death at the hands of the people there sent a cold chill to her very core. “I think I could do without entering that city if it’s all the same to you.”
Damien raised a brow and shot her a furtive glance. “The scourge of the universe gets the heebie-jeebies at the thought of going to Rome?”
Her features hardened as she stared out the window. “I think it would be in both of our best interests if I stayed back.”
The tone of her voice indicated the seriousness of her attitude. Damien stared out the front windshield and simply nodded. “Very well, I’ll find you a nice little homestead to stay at and eat your fill while I take care of business.”
Rachel continued to stare out her window, ignoring Damien and his amateurish enthusiasm. She closed her eyes and contained her anger, swallowing it down like a bitter tonic. She clenched her fists and allowed her nails to extend and bite into her flesh, letting the pain distract her from the emotional turmoil boiling within. When she opened her eyes once more, she took a deep cleansing breath and allowed herself to actually listen to Damien and his childish prattling.
“…and afterwards we can commandeer a jet, head back to the States, assemble the pieces, and do the ritual. I have to admit, I’m looking forward to the ritual. I wish you’d tell me all of the steps. Just getting the virgins will be tough enough, but the Council elder? Man, that one will be really tough. Don’t get me wrong, it will be totally worth it, but it’s still going to be hard…”
“Lover, how much further until we call it a night?” Her hand reached across and embraced his own.
Damien gave her a startled look then slowly grinned at her. “Shouldn’t be too much further. We just have a few more miles and then we’ll make the next pick up.”
She stared out the window at the moon hanging low in the sky. “And then we head to the mainland?”
“We don’t have to be in a hurry.” Damien slowed the truck and crested the hill before them. As they broached the top and the lights fell to the valley below, the main paved road stretched out in either direction before them. “We could spend a day to just catch our breath before we leave the isle.”
Rachel shook her head slowly in the darkness. “No, we should finish this.”
Damien held the truck in place and studied her in the darkness. “You realize that we are this close to being done, don’t you? You’ll finally be complete.”
Rachel stiffened, her head suddenly held high. “I’ve always been complete, I’ll just have my body back.”
Damien’s features screwed up quizzically. “Isn’t that the source of your power? Your true power, I mean?”
Rachel continued to stare at the road before them and shook her head slightly. “Not really. But…sort of.”
Damien set the parking brake and turned to her. “If your body isn’t the source of your true power, then what is? Why didn’t we simply go after that?”
Rachel slowly turned to face him. “It was your decision to restore my body to its original state, remember? It was your assumption that it was the source of my power.” Her voice held a menacing touch.
Damien’s eyes narrowed as he studied her in the dim glow of the moonlight. “You led me to believe that—”
“No, lover, I tried to convince you to drop the idea, to leave things as they were. To just…let it ride. Let me ke
ep this body and find happiness with what we had. It was your decision to pursue this little adventure.” He could almost swear that her eyes glowed red in the darkness.
Damien sighed and released the parking brake. “Fine. When you’re right, you’re right.” He shoved the truck into gear and they started rolling down the hill. “But I feel like you’ve been holding back key pieces of information that could have swayed my decision.”
“Like what? The true source of my power?” She laughed a deep, throaty laugh and turned back to face the windshield. “What would you have done? Tracked it down and tried to use it for yourself?”
Damien rolled his eyes and shook his head. “No, of course not. We could have tracked it down for you to use.”
She laughed at his comment, and Damien began to question her sanity. She wasn’t acting like herself and her aggressive demeanor was beginning to worry him. “Lover, you still don’t get it, do you? Even if you had found it, you couldn’t steal my power. It’s mine. It’s always been mine. Only I can access it, only I can use it. It’s as much a part of me as your soul was once yours.”
“Where the hell is this coming from?” he asked as he pulled the truck onto the paved road. “I thought we were a team?”
She turned and faced him again. “I created you, little vampire. Don’t forget that.”
Damien gripped the steering wheel so tightly that he could feel the metal core begin to bend in his hands. “And I’m recreating you. I’m traveling the earth retrieving the archived pieces of your body to restore you to your full glory. I’m—”
“Who are you doing it for?” Her voice was barely more than a whisper when she spoke, but Damien heard her as clearly as if she had yelled. “Do you do this for me, or for yourself?”
He shook his head in confusion. “What do you mean? I’m doing it for you.”
“Do you think that, if you restore me, you can fuel yourself by biting chunks from my restored body?” He could hear the laughter in her voice as she spoke.
Damien’s head spun on her so rapidly that he nearly lost control of the truck. “How could you even think such a thing?”
Homecoming Page 11
