by S. L. Eaves
“That sounds very bad for us. They have us outnumbered and outgunned. These aren’t our average humans.”
“Maybe, but if those men I killed tonight are any indication at what we’re up against, I’m not worried. And don’t even consider bringing in your DIA friends to help—”
“No, I’m thinking more along the line of the undead variety.”
“Vega?” Crina’s tone is indifferent.
I nod. “He’s already up there with a couple of his men; one of theirs went rogue, decided to hunt down Brixton himself. They’re trying to intercept him before he gets himself killed.”
“Damn, really? Well, we better get moving.”
I start to protest. She continues, “The only way this is going to work is if we trust each other.”
“Agreed. That mean you’re willing to trust me now?”
“This DIA nonsense—the men that came to your aid before—are you working for the American government?
I sigh, “They asked for my help. It seemed like something worth fighting for, something that would benefit both vampires and humans alike. Plus, it sounded like fun at the time.”
She nods. “I guess I can see that…still, you keep our clan at arms’ length, you get cozy with humans—you can see why I’m hesitant to trust you.”
“Yeah, well, now you know why I’ve been keeping my distance. I’ve been dealing with some trust issues myself.”
“Fair enough. Can you call Quinn and Dade, bring them in on our plan? Vega too, if you must.”
“Of course. Wait—what exactly is the plan?”
Chapter 25
The compound is as depressing a sight as I remember it. Shackles hold my hands firmly in place behind my back. I’d talked her out of ankle restraints. I’d insisted on coming in full strength, none of this half-dead and weakened bullshit. If I was walking in there, I was going to be able to defend myself.
Crina had objected at first. She was worried about selling it to Brixton. Concerned she might think it was a trap if I walked in looking unscathed, as though I hadn’t put up a fight. A valid point. I argued that any wounds I incurred would heal by the time we got there anyways. She conceded.
Quinn and Dade are on their way to Vega’s place in Fairbanks. I’d told them our plan, and within a few hours they’d be with the others preparing to attack the compound.
The guards stand at attention along the hallway as Crina marches me past. I hang my head to sell it, silently counting each mindless soldier as we pass and picturing the creative ways I’m going to kill them. I’m vibrating with anticipation. We reach a glass door that divides Brixton’s wing from the rest and the guard posted there raises his hand.
“Boss, the, uh—What’s your name?” The guard looks up from his handheld comm.
“Crina. Tell her I have Lori,” Crina says, her voice polite, tone friendly.
“I heard that; send her to my office,” Brixton’s voice chirps excitedly through the comm.
“Right away.” The guard swipes a key card and gestures down the hall.
About halfway down, Brixton and Marcus emerge from Brixton’s office.
“Well look at this, Crina, they’ve got a homecoming party for us,” I sneer.
She shakes me roughly. She’s wearing the exosleeve and the jolt forces a stumble. I won’t have to work hard to sell this whole captive angle.
“She give you any trouble?” Marcus asks as Brixton shows us into her office and seals the door behind us.
“What do you think?” Crina sits me down. I remain still, mostly looking at the ground. She takes off the sleeve and hands it to Brixton. “Thanks for this; it was a big help in the field.”
Brixton holds up a hand. “That’s great to hear. You keep it. It’s a gift. And the first of many tokens of appreciation I plan on bestowing in return for your allegiance.
“I’m short seven men, though. And I take it my scientist didn’t make the trip with you? He certainly didn’t come back in my helicopter.” Brixton purses her lips as she voices her displeasure.
“She knew about EVO. She was there waiting for us. She beat us to the scientist and anyone else you had holding down the fort there.”
“That so? And where were you when this all went down?”
“Inside your lab. She drew your men to a neighboring building. I found her too late.”
“Well, Lori, aren’t you the little fire-starter? I don’t have many regrets, but not killing you when I had the chance is quickly becoming one of them.”
I look her in the eyes. “Now’s your chance to fix that.”
She takes a couple steps towards me and strikes me across the jaw. It stings a little, but if anything it reminds me how weak she is compared to our kind.
“Was she there alone?” Brixton asks skeptically.
“Yes, she was. It took some coercing on my part, but she told me the other vampires abandoned her.”
“They didn’t abandon me, they just went after a pack of werewolves. There’s been some pack activity along the west coast,” I interject, pretending to be offended.
“They don’t want a civil war,” Crina explains. “They weren’t going to take sides. Go against us. Marcus is well respected. He’ll be able to bring them around, eventually.”
She’s got the rhetoric down convincingly and Marcus beams at the compliment.
“That’s understandable,” he agrees, explaining to Brixton. “There’s some bad blood between myself and another vampire, but he’s smart enough to know not to oppose me. Xan confirmed he didn’t lift a finger to help Lori once we declared her a traitor. He’s not a problem.”
I have to stop myself from laughing at how easily Marcus is swayed by his ego.
“I seem to have picked the right vampires to align with,” Brixton smiles. “And the werewolf activity I buy. The one you two witnessed. We grabbed him from a pack in the bay area.”
Brixton paces the room. Marcus refuses to meet my gaze; he pretends to be distracted by the images on the monitors. I wait for what’s coming next.
“Did my men scan her for chips when you brought her in?”
Crina nods. They had, actually, and they found the second DIA chip, which I was more than happy part with.
“Yep, DIA had a new chip in her. She’s clean now.”
“Good.” Brixton walks over to me, squats down to meet me at eye level. “What about the DIA?”
“They know about EVO. They sent me to raid the place, gather intel. They don’t have the support from inside for another operation. Your man, Owen, saw to that. So they sent me to get more incriminatory evidence to generate support for another operation.” I’m trying my best to sound defeated: “You’ve got friends in high places.”
“That I do.” Brixton smirks and straightens. “Always stay one step ahead.”
“Where’s Xan?” Crina asks.
“He’s either down in the weapons room schooling my team or analyzing the camera footage we got of Lori,” Brixton says dismissively. “I have nothing to hide. I’m sure you would have heard from him by now if he thought otherwise.”
“He hasn’t said anything to me about it,” Marcus concurs, “but I would like to see what he’s working on with your team.”
“Me too, for that matter,” Crina adds.
“Of course. I can have a guard take you to the weapons lab while I take care of unfinished business with Lori.”
“About that—” Marcus starts to object. “I’d strongly recommend you wait to turn until we know for sure all this nonsense with the DIA has blown over. The process of turning will take you out of commission for a day or two. It’s not something you want to rush into without the proper arrangements in place.”
“True…” Brixton consents, “but that’s why I have you all here with me to watch over the compound—to make certain nothing goes awry.”
As if on cue, Brixton’s handheld beeps. She pulls it off her waistband.
“Yeah?”
“We spotted an intruder
on the grounds. We think he’s a vampire. Capture or kill?”
Brixton looks at Marcus. “Capture. Use the electric tranqs. I’m heading to the surveillance room now.” She clicks off the comm and groans, “Speaking of going awry…”
I think about the darts the DIA uses. I wonder which group had them first. My money’s on Trion.
“You know anything about this?” she asks Crina.
“No clue. We weren’t followed, I can tell you that much,” Crina shrugs. “She has some rogue friends like the one who broke her out of here before; could be one of them.”
Brixton nods, “Take her to the holding cell. Chain her up this time. We don’t want her slipping out again. I’ll send a guard to keep watch.”
Crina leads me down the familiar hallway. A guard escorts us, walking several paces behind. I eye the cameras as we pass.
“Who’s the intruder?” Crina whispers.
“Dunno. Maybe Javier, he’s one of Vega’s. He went rogue after Brixton killed his boyfriend.” I glance over my shoulder at the guard, wishing I could communicate telepathically. “I can’t see any of the others going against Vega’s orders. They’ll wait for our go-ahead.”
“They better, or things will unravel real fast.”
“The electrified darts. The ones the DIA used on you. Brixton has them. Be careful.”
When we reach the cell I notice they’ve hosed it down. It smells of bleach. All traces of my blood are gone.
“Aw, they cleaned it for me; how nice of them,” I joke as we wait for the guard to punch a keypad. The gate rolls back and Crina looks to the guard, who nods at the cell.
“Use the hook on the far wall.”
I remember the premonition I’d had at the hotel, now understanding the absence of dread.
“More precautions this time, I see.” I stare down the tightly wound guard. “And the cement slab was so comfortable before.”
Crina gives my arm a rough jerk and I pretend to look pissed about it as she brings me to the wall facing the bars, where a metal hook is fastened about six feet up. I stand patiently as she lifts my arms over my head and slips a chain link over the hook. She secures the closure so I can’t jump up and lift it off.
“I can send Owen down, but you gotta get him to open the gate,” she whispers.
“I can take it from here,” I say, a muted confidence in my voice. “Find Xan.”
She slides the key between my fingers as she tests that the shackles are holding.
“I can’t leave the black box without him seeing…” She gives an imperceptible nod at the guard. “Kick me.”
Not following, I give her a puzzled look. Her eyes say do it.
I throw my legs up, bracing my back against the cinderblock wall for support as I shoot my legs up and into her stomach. She staggers backwards and flings her arm dramatically towards the concrete bench in an attempt to catch her balance, misses, and instead connects with the ground.
Someone give her an Oscar already.
She places the black box against the bench’s base. Out of sight of the cameras. Smart move.
The guard steps in, but she jumps up and raises her hand to stop him from shooting me. He’s holding the rifle in both hands; he looks from me to her and decides not to retaliate.
“It’s fine, let Brixton deal with her.” She waves the guard off, risking a glance back at me as she follows him out. She watches as he presses the keypad to activate the electrified bars. I image the bars don’t give off enough of a surge to really do much to a vampire. It takes several of those concentrated darts to affect the nervous system, but then again, if I don’t have to find out the hard way, that would be a nice change of pace.
***
“Can you take me to the weapons room? Or lab? Wherever it is that you design and test your artillery?” Crina asks the guard, who regards her quizzically at first, then shrugs.
“The boss wants me down here. But the shooting range is right up the stairs at the end of this hall,” he points with his rifle.
“Thanks.” Casually, she adds, “And Brixton asked me to send Owen down to guard her. Do you know who that is?” She points at the handheld. “Can you page him?”
The guard nods and clips it off his waistband.
“Sure, no problem.”
Crina heads up the steps and makes her way down the hall; she stops to look through the glass doors, eyeing the scientists as she passes one lab after another. Most of them are either peering through microscopes or entering data into computers. All of them are wearing blinking ankle bands as if on house arrest. Lori is right; they are not here by choice.
She passes a pair of scientists poking and prodding an organ and stops in her tracks. The room is full of organs in jars. It’s as though she just stepped into the prop room for a horror film. She looks up and down the empty hallway and considers entering the lab to find out the point of the organ harvest when she hears commotion further down.
“Restrain him!” a voice yells.
“Tase him!” another orders.
“Get your hands off me!” Xan cries out.
Crina darts towards the sound of his voice.
She surges into the room to find a group of scientists and two guards pinning an enraged Xan on an exam table.
“What the hell?!” Crina lashes out, ripping the scientists away from him.
She hears a loud commotion behind her and a jolt of electricity goes through her body. Then everything goes dark.
***
The guard has trouble tracking Owen down and it’s an hour or so before he shows up to relieve the guard.
“I heard our new allies brought you in as a gesture of good faith, but I had to see it myself to believe it.” Owen peers at me from between the bars, grinning ear to ear.
“Owen, you come to argue about who’s the bigger traitor?” I hiss and make a show of trying to jump from the wall at him. I need him to believe I’m harmless, that the restraints are doing their job, so the coward won’t hesitate to take the bait.
“You know Brixton wants me to turn her? She tell you that? Wonder what that makes you? Her slave? Her meal?”
Owen shifts his weight, folds his arms; his smile fades.
“She will reward me for my loyalty. I’ve been working with her for years; she does not kill those she can trust. And she needs people close to her she can rely on. I’m not worried.”
“Oh yeah? Even once she becomes a vampire?”
“Especially once she gets what she wants,” he assures me.
“You think she’s going to turn you, don’t you? Forever linked by blood. Is that what you want?” I laugh.
He remains silent, but that irritating, shit-eating grin of his reappears.
“If you believe you’re anything but a blood source to her, you’re a fool. You’re just a means to an end.” I try to sound as sinister as possible, maybe throwing in a little desperation. “…Aren’t you tired of taking orders, Owen? I can give you a chance to come out of this your own boss. Free me. I’ll turn you instead. We can take her out together.”
He laughs loudly at that.
“Okay, can’t say I blame you for trying to save your own ass. I’m sure you’ll say just about anything to get out of here at this point, but…” He leans into the bars. “I will never betray Brixton. I’m not that stupid. She is way too connected. I kill her, all I’ll gain is a bounty on my head. I have no desire to make an enemy of her or Trion.”
I pick up something subtle in his voice, softness in his tone.
“Do you love her, Owen? Are you two a thing?”
“It’s not about love. I’m not that dumb. I’m not Tyler.”
That hurts. I mean really scalds. But it does provide a nice segue to Plan B. Which may have been Plan A all along, because I didn’t really expect him to join forces with me to take out his boss. More importantly, I’d gotten him talking, and I’d had a chance to read the situation; bait the hook.
“Tyler barely knew me; what we had wasn’
t love…and yet you sound jealous, Owen.”
“Of a dead man? Hardly.” He gives a triumphant laugh.
“At least he died a man. He wasn’t some woman’s lap dog. He took what he wanted. I bet you envied that. I bet you wish you had with Brixton what he and I had. That you were man enough to satisfy her.”
Yup, that did it. I laid it on a little thicker than I probably should have, because the quickness with which he enters the cell catches me off guard slightly.
“That what you think of me? That I’m some pawn she manipulates?”
He places his hands on my arms, pressing them into the cold stone surface. His face is inches from mine; from where I’m hanging, we’re eye to eye and our noses are practically touching.
Then a flash hits me.
I see Marcus clamped to an operating table and doctors standing around. Owen is observing, laughing to himself. I momentarily freeze, realizing Marcus isn’t the one poised to come out ahead in this whole arrangement of his.
A twist I failed to anticipate.
If Brixton got to him, then where are Crina and Xan? Shit.
I feel my lips move; I’m starting to say something. I catch myself and focus on the plan, using the opportunity to steal a glance at the nearest camera in range. He’s not supposed to be in here with me, so I’m hoping he’ll turn off the cameras on this floor. I’ll settle for the one aimed in our direction. He follows my eyes and falls for it, pulling back suddenly to grab the phone from his pocket. He hits some buttons on the screen and the little red light goes off. Thank you, Owen.
“Aren’t you? From what I’ve seen, she says jump, you ask how high. I believe the term is ‘pussy whipped.’”
Owen is a trained soldier. He’s a smaller guy in stature and likely has had to fight hard for his place amongst the ranks, worked harder than most to earn his way to the top. He’s the type of guy who wears his insecurities like a chip on his shoulder. At my comment, he grabs my throat.
“You really don’t learn, do you? Running your mouth like you ain’t chained to a wall, when you ain’t nothing but a piece of Brixton’s plan. A means to an end.”
