by S. L. Eaves
“Yes, boss, right away.” The doctor gets up, nodding appreciatively, and makes a hasty exit.
After he leaves, Brixton pulls up a map of England.
“Who did Owen say Lori worked with? Some clan of vamps in England…maybe it’s time I reached out an olive branch…”
Brixton pulls out her radio, speaking to no one in particular.
“When Owen returns, make sure my office is his first stop.”
Chapter 9
Marcus strokes Crina’s hair, brushes a piece behind her ear, and lets his hand linger. Crina is smiling, but her eyes look past him.
“What’s on your mind?”
Crina’s smile fades, but her body remains relaxed, legs entwined with his. They are stretched out in his bed, wrapped in black satin sheets. Classical music plays softly from speakers mounted in the corners of the room.
“Nothing, I suppose…just wondering what’s next for us. We took out the last wolf pack on our respective radars weeks ago. I mean, I know there are more out there, but until word reaches us, what do we do? Sit around and wait for someone to get mauled?”
Marcus gives a slight chuckle. “We take a much-deserved vacation, that’s what.”
“That so?”
“I’ve been thinking we should take a trip together. A change of scenery would do us good.”
“You have a point; the walls of the mansion have been getting to me lately. I’m feeling restless.”
“Where do you want to go? Just name it.”
“Hmmm…choices, choices… let me think about it.”
“Of course.”
She leans over and kisses him. He pulls her towards him.
***
I awake with a start and a gasp. I am sitting straight up in bed not knowing how long I’ve been out or where I am. And all I see is blood. My stomach aches and I claw at an invisible knife. Traumatic images cloud my mind, blurry and indiscernible. My body is immersed in a state of shock; then the illusion slips away as I blink consciousness into focus. The vivid dreams are few and far between these days, and while I’m grateful for it, I wouldn’t mind if Catch made an appearance once in a while. These surreal nightmares are not a pleasant substitute.
It takes me a few minutes to get my bearings.
There is a knock at the door and it triggers my memory. I look around the guest room: dark, quiet, and empty. No imminent threat.
The door inches open slowly.
“You okay in there? I heard screaming,” a familiar voice asks.
“Uh, yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, bad dream.”
“Alright, just checking,” Rex says, closing the door without looking in.
“Hey, Rex.” The door opens again, this time accompanied by Rex’s face as he peers in.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
His expression is soft and he reacts as if he’s not used to people showing appreciation.
“Vega got you checking in on me, or were you just passing by?”
“I’m in the room across the hall.”
“Ah, okay…you want to come in? Chat a little? I’d like to get your take on this whole situation.”
“Uh, yeah, alright…” He enters cautiously and shuts the door behind him.
I swing my legs around the edge of the bed and gesture at the chair Vega had last occupied. He motions at my shirt. I look down at the blood.
“Still leaking,” I admit. “Feeling much better though. Almost fully healed.”
It really is a miracle how quickly we recover. While I realize the blood acts as a steroid and a painkiller in one, providing a rush of energy and just the right degree of numbness, I embrace every bit of it. Especially when you’ve had to live through a shotgun blast point blank in the abdomen and a cracked skull.
“That’s good.”
“How long has it been since I was brought in?”
“About twenty-four hours.”
So I hadn’t been out as long as I thought.
“Have a seat, I’m going to freshen up real quick.”
I go into the bathroom and splash warm water on my face, leaving the door cracked open so we can talk.
“You’re American, right? From the South?” I ask.
“Yep, Midwest though; every now and then a little country twang slips out.”
“How do you know Vega?” I stick my head out of the bathroom, toothbrush in hand.
“It’s not that interesting of a story. I got home after a couple of tours in Afghanistan—I was in the army—and I wasn’t sure what to do with my life. I was feeling lost and having trouble adjusting to life back home. Going from spending days in the desert watching people being torn apart from IEDs to waiting tables…it just wasn’t working for me. Then I ran into a friend from high school, he’d been turned, and, well, I didn’t believe him at first, any of it—but you know how it is; once you see a vampire in the flesh it’s hard to deny—and the more I learned, the more I wanted it. Eventually he brought me to his maker, this vampire named Franco.”
At the mention of Franco’s name I spit my toothpaste out and lean back through the doorway.
“Franco?!”
“Yeah. You knew him?”
I killed him.
I hesitate before answering, “His name came up when the war was brewing; heard he switched sides is all.”
“Yeah, he lost his way, got involved with the wrong people…in the end, he paid for his treachery. Vega saw to that.”
Did he now?
I brush my hair back. It is nice not waking up in a jail cell.
“But before all that went down, he vetted me, brought me in to meet Vega and eventually Vega named me to be turned. Just like that, I was part of something again.”
“And you never regret what you left behind?”
“Not really, no. I think everyone I knew growing up didn’t expect me to come home. I felt like they didn’t know how to treat me when I returned. They used kid gloves, worried I’d have PTSD or something. I was relieved to move on with a new purpose.”
“I get it.” I emerge from the bathroom to find Rex now standing by the door, his arm propping him casually against the wall by the doorframe, leaving his other arm free to grab me. I freeze reflexively and he is quick to pull me into a kiss. My lips meet his, but only for a second before I step back. He relaxes his grip, eyes trying to read mine.
“Sorry, I—not used to women inviting me in, thought maybe you were…I think I read it wrong.”
I give a nervous laugh and smile reassuringly. “I really did just want to talk; I didn’t mean to give you the wrong impression, but I realize how that could’ve been misinterpreted.”
I am wearing an oversized t-shirt that barely covers my underwear. It didn’t strike me as sexy or even attractive, especially given the bloodstains, but I suppose technically I was half naked in front of a guy I’d just met the day before. It was definitely an unintended mixed signal.
“It’s my fault, really; I have nightmares sometimes and…I just didn’t want to be alone.”
Rex nods. He’s been slowly retreating towards the door. If vampires could blush, he would be.
I look at him as if seeing him for the first time. He’s a big guy, probably often considered a meathead if one were to simply judge by appearance. His past in the army probably doesn’t come as a surprise to anyone who encounters him. His white t-shirt struggles to hide his bulky, muscular frame and he still sports an army-approved buzz cut. A snake tattoo runs up his left arm; its rattler hugs his wrist.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
I go to him before he can put any more space between us and press my body against his. “Stop apologizing.”
I return his kiss and the flustered expression leaves his face. He pulls me into him and hoists me up as he’s a good six inches taller. I wrap my legs around his midsection and he brings me to the bed.
“Wait,” I whisper as sets me on the down comforter.
&
nbsp; He opens his eyes and pulls back.
“You’re not anyone’s here, right? Like not hooking up with Quinn? Cause I don’t want to fall unknowingly into a triangle, and I especially don’t want to cross Quinn.”
“No, we’re not hooking up. We never have.”
“Okay good, just checking…why are your pants still on?”
***
“Whoa! Stop! Halt!”
The guard pulls out his tranquilizer gun and fires a shot into the wolf’s hind leg. The wolf slows his pace and drops into the snow. The road has widened as they approach an intersection; lights can be seen about a half a mile down. Dawn is nearing, not that they can tell. It is still pitch black, a sliver of a moon peeking out from the clouds overhead. Traffic is beginning to pick up and it’s only a matter of time before someone notices the monstrous beast lumbering down the freeway.
“He’s not going to listen, boss, that was the only way,” he explains somewhat apologetically.
“Damn. Well, we know she made it into the city, and she has help. Someone had a car waiting for her.”
“Take it this is not typical DIA protocol? You think someone else knew about the operation?”
“Maybe. It certainly wasn’t the agency. If they knew about the tunnel or had additional men in the region I’d have known about it.”
“Can we risk bringing the wolf into the city?”
“No, it’s a risk Brixton won’t want us taking. And I’d doubt it’ll accomplish much. The fresh tracks will merge with fresher ones now that we’re entering the city limits. Let’s go back to the compound. We’ll have to find a way to get them to come to us.”
“What about the hound, boss?”
“How long will he be out?”
“An hour, maybe two. We haven’t thoroughly tested the effects on a werewolf.”
“Well I don’t know about you, but I could use a break from this nonsense. And a decent meal. Let’s tie him up in the woods and grab some breakfast in the city.”
Owen swings his leg around the back of the mobile. Stands and stretches.
“Maybe ask around, see if we can learn anything. If she’s got vampires helping her, there may have been some strange sightings in the city; local blood banks robbed, that sort of thing. Heading back empty handed is going to be bad. Let’s try and learn as much as we can before we go back and face the boss lady.”
Chapter 10
“So I told you mine. What’s your story?” Rex is at the side of the bed, searching for his clothes. I remain in bed, wrapped rather sheepishly in the sheets as I survey the room for my clothes. Or rather the shirt I’d been wearing.
“My story…guess the abbreviated version is, I was investigating the PMC base north of here and got caught, my team—they were human, but good, trained agents, military background—I led them right into a trap, got them all killed. There was a mole inside my team and I didn’t sniff him out.”
“Sounds like you blame yourself for a lot of what went down in there. Judging by your state when Quinn pulled you out, I’d say you paid for it in spades.”
“Thing is, I behaved as though my comrades were as strong as me. As us. I blame myself for being reckless, taking risks I would not have taken, or don’t think I would have, had I been human. But mostly I blame the inside man. And I intend to make him pay.”
Rex pulls on his shirt, flashes a smile. “I’d like to help with that.”
“Thanks. I know my alliance with humans is going to raise eyebrows, but there are humans out there that want the same things we do. And helping them eliminate a common enemy is a worthwhile endeavor, at least in my eyes.”
“You don’t have to sell me. I have considered rejoining my squad. In this state I know I could be a valuable asset. But then there’s the whole sunlight thing. And living off blood. Makes assimilation a bit of a challenge.”
I laugh.
“How do you know Vega?” His turn to ask.
I find my shirt still clinging to the corner of the bed and slip it on.
“That is a story for another time, but I will say that I don’t know him very well. Had he joined my clan in our fight against the wolves, I feel I’d have a better answer to that question.”
I get up, feeling a little sore. Perhaps I haven’t recovered as much as I’d thought. I’ll need more blood.
“I get it. Many of us urged Vega to join Marcus and your group, but he declined. Maybe you know more than me, but I get the vibe Vega really doesn’t care for Marcus much.”
He grabs me and pulls me in for a parting kiss as I move to the bathroom.
“What you guys did, taking down Striden and Deacon, Vega didn’t foresee that outcome; you all impressed him. And he’s not easily impressed.”
“That’s good to know. Or really disappointing, depending on how you look at it.”
“That’s just how Vega is.” Rex points to a stack of clean clothes in the corner. “Looks like you don’t need to stay in that bloody shirt.”
I’d forgotten Quinn dropped off clean clothes earlier.
Rex slinks to the door, turning the knob gingerly. I laugh.
“You look like you just committed a crime; try acting casual, like you just dropped off blood.”
“Good point,” he grins sheepishly as he slips out.
Rex is shy and gentle, almost awkward in his mannerisms. He does not have the over–confident, chauvinist cockiness to match his brutish demeanor and I like that I underestimated him. I smile as I watch the door to his room close; it’s a pleasant surprise when people are more than they appear.
Cleaned and dressed in fresh clothes, I wander around the penthouse looking for a kitchen or a fridge full of blood stashed somewhere. I figure they must have healthy reserves, given how much they’d been able to offer me, unless I ran through their entire supply.
I hear Quinn’s voice down the hall and stick my head in a living room. Quinn is sitting with her feet propped up on an oval coffee table telling two vampires about the security of the compound. By her tone you might think she is arguing a point, but her body language says she couldn’t care less.
“We can’t just go back in the way we came—they are too good to not have found and secured that entrance by now. That was our one shot,” I hear her rationalizing as I enter.
“Lori! Perfect timing. And looking a lot better than when I found ya. Please tell these vampires why we need to determine a new point of entry.”
I stand in the doorway, knowing Quinn is right, but uncertain how to answer.
“At this point, I’m not sure it matters. They know I had help escaping and Owen will assure them it wasn’t DIA. Which will lead them to ask, ‘Who has access to more accurate intel?’ They probably think it’s my clan from overseas. In which case, they’ll be stepping up defenses and maybe even plotting relocation.”
“This Owen guy know how to find your friends?” Quinn sounds concerned. Maybe I should be, too.
“I don’t think so, no. But, well, guess it couldn’t hurt to give them a heads up. They don’t know anything about all this, but if Brixton cares enough to hunt me down, finding Marcus’s clan might be her next move.”
This thought hadn’t occurred to me until just now and a sudden wave of panic hits me as I say the words aloud. Abrams knows about them. Does Owen? Does anyone else with the DIA or Trion?
“Who’s Owen?” the larger of the two male vampires inquires, snapping my train of thought. He looks familiar and I stand for a moment trying to place him.
“Hey—I know you. You came to the mansion once.”
“I did. And I remember you as well. Name’s Malik.” He extends a hand and I cross the room to shake it.
“Nice to see you again. I didn’t know you were part of Vega’s clan.”
“I’m not. None of us are, at least not originally. Vega dismantled his clan when he exiled Florien.”
“The Saviors, right? I forgot about all that nonsense.”
In the back of my mind I begin to tally all t
he vampires that died as a result of the war. Florien’s group sided with Striden. They wanted to end the war with an amiable truce; one where the wolves were clearly going to come out ahead. When Marcus refused, they attacked the mansion, following Striden’s orders to take us out. Their willingness to take orders from a werewolf still blows my mind. Desperate times and all, I suppose. It did not end well for them. Not at all.
Malik nods, “We’d all like to.”
“Anyways, Owen is, err—was a PMC operative working inside the DIA. He’s human. But he has knowledge of our kind and knowledge of how the DIA operates. Wait, do you guys know about the DIA or should I back up some more with this?”
“U.S. government agency. We know.”
“Okay. Well, Owen has inside knowledge of both organizations. He’s got to be one of Brixton’s most valuable employees.”
“Aside from the scientists she has doing god-knows-what to our kind,” the other vampire hisses as he speaks, kicking over an empty chair like an impetuous child.
“Forgive Javier; his boyfriend was the other vampire I went to recover,” Quinn tells me, then to him adds, “We all liked Nicholas; granted, he was a pain in the ass sometimes, but he had our backs.”
“Oh. Right. Nicholas. I’m very sorry.” I look Javier in the eyes trying to convince him of my sincerity. I’m sure he wishes I could trade places with him right now. After a minute, his features soften and he nods appreciatively.
“Not that it helps, but there wasn’t anything Quinn could have done. He must have been dead by the time she got there—by the time I got there, for that matter. I wouldn’t have been kept alive if they’d had another vampire on hand. Of that, you can be certain.”
Javier sighs, rights the chair, and straddles it, leaning over its back. “What’s our next move then?”
“I dunno, maybe Lori has some insight to offer on that end.”
“We need to go back. We have to make those ingrates pay!” Javier’s voice rises, indicating the end of his momentary calm, and Quinn places a comforting hand on his knee. He is clearly distraught; it’s an all too familiar pain.
I realize I’m shaking. Not sure if it’s the accumulation of events, the memory of being in the compound, or guilt for my part in all this, but it’s presenting itself like withdrawal. I brush hair back from my eyes and look around the room in a daze.
