Shit-tastic sign number one.
* * *
Damon rode in the first of four E.U. vans. He sat next to the tech team leader, staring at the tracking screen. From what they could tell using their maps, a few minutes ago Janette had parked outside an abandoned warehouse near Brighton, a nearby suburb.
Courtesy of the silent hybrid engines, they surrounded the warehouse undetected. Though Damon’s feelings regarding the raid remained steady and focused, his nerves circled around the thought of Tiffany in danger. He couldn’t push their earlier moment from his mind. She’d known exactly what he’d been struggling to say, and despite that the words had still refused to leave his mouth, she cared for him, anyway.
Damn his stupid emotional inhibitions. If something happened and he’d never told her he loved her, he would never forgive himself. His failure would haunt him for the rest of his days.
No.
He couldn’t allow himself to think like that. Nothing would happen to her. Her safety was his highest priority.
“All units secured,” a muffled voice sounded over Damon’s handheld radio.
Damon pressed down the button for confirmation. “Copy. Tech unit establishing ground layout.”
Careful to not make any sound, one of his tech hunters slid open the side door of the van. He and two other hunters hopped out, the high-powered heat sensors in their hands. The three of them rushed around the building, hooking their equipment into place.
“Operative,” a voice whispered from outside the van.
Damon turned.
Shit.
The Sergeant was standing outside the van, dressed in full gear and—from the bulges underneath his short leather jacket—fully armed. He climbed into the vehicle and crouched next to Damon.
Damon gave a single nod to his commanding officer. “Good evening, Sergeant. With all due respect, sir, may I ask why you’re here?”
The Sergeant fixed Damon with a look that was half annoyance, half “What do you think I’m here for, idiot?” After a long moment, he said, “To make sure this goes smoothly, operative.”
Damon met his eyes. “With all due respect, sir, I can—”
The Sergeant jabbed his finger into Damon’s chest. If he’d been speaking above a whisper, he would have been barking at Damon, as usual. “Don’t tell me what you can and can’t do, Brock. I know you can do this or I wouldn’t have put you in charge, would I? I’m here to make sure you don’t call ‘go’ too soon. I can’t have you getting trigger-happy. I’m no imbecile. You think I’m forgetting this is your first raid since we lost Operative Solow? Not to mention Operative Solow’s sister is inside there. That’s the woman you love, Brock. Don’t think I don’t know that.”
Damon frowned. Damn. The Sergeant had always been so friggin’ perceptive. It pissed Damon the hell off, but at the same time he respected the man for it. The Sergeant grated on his every nerve, but he was the man who’d made Damon into the hunter he was, and for that he looked on the Sergeant almost as if he were a second father—and the Sergeant acted is if Damon were a surrogate son, always giving him a hard time because he expected more of him.
Static crackled over the radio. “All secure.”
Damon flipped three switches connected to the second monitor. A shadowy green layout of the building appeared on the screen. Damon’s eyes widened.
“Damn. Don’t know if I’ve ever seen more bloodsuckers in one place,” the Sergeant said as he shook his head.
Damon scanned the screen. There had to be nearly thirty vamps in the main area and...
He paused. Three on the far side of the building? His breath caught. Shit. This was not good.
“Prep your team, operative, and remain calm. We’ll get her out of there safely,” the Sergeant said.
* * *
Tiffany’s heart raced as she faced Lucas. Her pulse thumped in her blood, and she could feel the rhythm all through her body. Standing tall, she glared at the bloodsucker. She wouldn’t show her fear. “What is this about, Lucas?”
An evil grin twisted his face. “That worthless hunter of yours, Damon Brock.” The way he said Damon’s name sounded as if he considered Damon the scourge of the earth.
Tiffany froze. It took everything she had to hold her face completely still. How did he know about Damon? She met his eyes and decided to bluff. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Lucas snarled. “Don’t be cute with me, human. You know exactly what I’m talking about. Your vampire slayer lover and his brigade of Execution Underground cronies positioned outside this building.” He stepped closer. “Lie and pretend you don’t know again, and I’ll sink my fangs into your throat.”
She held her breath, holding her face still and stern.
He walked toward the wall and leaned against it. “I know you killed Caius.”
All the neurons in Tiffany’s brain fired. How the hell was she going to get herself out of this? She tried to steady her breathing. Damon and the other E.U. members would rush in soon, and when Damon saw she wasn’t in the main room, he would come looking for her. Could she hold Lucas off until then?
Lucas went on. “But it’s not Caius’s life I care about. It’s my master, Apophis.”
Tiffany stared at him as calmly as she could. “If you expect the name to mean something to me, you’re going to be disappointed.”
A low growl escaped Lucas’s throat and a shiver rushed down her spine. “Apophis, named for the Egyptian God of chaos and war, my master—the ancient vampire your hunter murdered.”
She held her position. “Damon has destroyed hundreds of vampires, and you expect me to know the name of one in particular?”
Lucas chuckled. Moving faster than she could comprehend, he came to stand behind her, grasping her throat in one hand and her hair in the other. He led her toward a closed door that she assumed led into another room. “Perhaps you’ll put two and two together when you see what I’ve saved as a surprise for the two of you.”
Still gripping her hair, he wrenched the door open. A dark form loomed in the shadows. Lucas shoved her forward. She stumbled inside, and he flipped on the light. Her eyes locked onto the sight before her, and her heart stopped. Her stomach churned, and her whole body shook violently. Tears welled in her eyes as she choked down a scream.
Chained against the wall by his wrists stood her brother. At the sight of her, his irises flashed red and he hissed. His fangs descended as he fought against his restraints.
Bile rose in her throat. Unable to scream, she doubled over and vomited the entire contents of her stomach onto the floor. She panted, attempting to catch her breath, but to no avail. Her brain refused to process what stood directly in front of her.
Mark wasn’t dead. He was a vampire.
And he was infected...
“No doubt that hunter of yours told you that your brother’s body burned in the fire from the raid, and believe me, until this day he still thinks that to be true. But there’s one problem with fires....” He stepped up behind her, and the warmth of his disgusting breath brushed against her neck. “There are no bodies to be found.”
As fast as she could, Tiffany withdrew her stake from its hiding place and lunged toward Mark. But Lucas grabbed her midmovement. He dug his fingers into her hand, and the stake fell from her grasp as she felt the bones of her hand crushed beneath his fingertips. She crumpled to the ground.
Lucas kicked her spine, knocking the wind from her, then put his foot between her shoulder blades, holding her down. She prayed he wouldn’t move his foot low enough on her back to find her gun. “See, here’s what happened. That hunter of yours murdered my master, Apophis. Caius, being the coward he is, stabbed your brother with his own stake, then left to save his own skin. When I saw your brother lying there on the cold ground, bleeding, I saw my window of oppo
rtunity.”
He stomped harder on her spine. She reached for her stake, but the lacquered wood had landed just beyond her reach.
Lucas continued. “To make your hunter suffer, I turned your brother. I knew that to a vampire slayer of the Execution Underground, the only thing worse than death is being transitioned into one of the creatures they hunt.”
Foot still on her spine, he bent and picked up her stake, then released her. She gasped for air.
“At first your brother was a normal vampire—under my direction, of course, seeing as I’m his master. But, well...a little experiment backfired on us. As Caius may have told you, other than the master I lost, science is the one love of my life. When the new vampire movement asked me to create a serum that would allow us to walk by day without weakening, I decided to use your brother as a test subject.”
He paused to break her stake in two as if it were nothing more than a twig. “Turns out because it’s been tampered with, the DNA of the hunters of the Execution Underground doesn’t mix well with my vaccine, and, well, you know the virus that resulted.”
Tiffany stared up at her older brother. Mark hissed and spat like an animal, fighting to be freed. If he hadn’t been restrained, he would have torn into her flesh without hesitation.
“With the help of your brother, we were able to spread the virus and create a new strain of vampires by letting the newly turned feed on the humans he devoured.”
Tiffany’s stomach churned. If she’d had anything else there, she would have been sick again.
“Now I’ve combined the Execution Underground serum and my anti-sun vaccine into a single shot, and one injection can turn a new vampire into a flesh-eating monster. But for one special dose—” he pulled a syringe from his jacket pocket and held it up for Tiffany to see “—I’ve reversed the effect. Injected into the arm of an Execution Underground hunter, this will turn him into a ravenous flesh-hungry monster in minutes.” A smirked crossed his face. “And guess which hunter I’ve saved it for.”
Her eyes widened. Adrenaline raced through her body. Tears poured down her face. Dear Lord, no.
No, not Damon. She couldn’t lose him, too.
“When the hunters storm in here any minute, your hunter will come straight here, looking for you. One injection.” He grinned and raised the syringe into the light. “Or I can crush it now, and you won’t have to go through the horror of seeing the man you love murdered, like I did. I’ll give you a chance to save him—if you agree to sacrifice yourself.”
Tiffany lay on the cold concrete of the warehouse floor, her whole body trembling. All the warmth drained from her face. “Only if you get rid of the injection first.” She fixed him with a hard stare. Nothing was more important to her than Damon and his safety. She couldn’t take risks.
Lucas placed the syringe on the ground and positioned his foot overtop it.
Then she nodded. She would do anything to save Damon. Anything.
“What do you want from me?”
He crouched and prepared to lunge for her. “Don’t hold back.” He met her eyes. “I like it when my victims put up a fight.”
Happy to oblige, she pulled her Smith & Wesson from her lower back, aimed and fired.
* * *
The sound of a shot from somewhere inside the building rang in Damon’s ears. His heart stopped. “Go!” he yelled into his radio. He and the Sergeant lunged from the van, hitting the pavement at full speed.
The hunters rushed from their positions and burst into the warehouse. Shots were fired, the sounds echoing off the metal walls, followed by the clatter of ricocheting bullets. Damon unsheathed his sword and launched himself through the main entry. He didn’t think twice. He swung the heavy weight of the silver sword in front of him, slicing the head of the vampire in front of him clean off.
The vampire exploded in a burst of blood. Shrieks and cries of pain filled the room, but a steady constant buzz filled Damon’s ears.
Tiffany.
Nothing would stop him from getting to her.
Brandishing his weapon, he cut savagely into vampire after vampire, destroying any and all of the monsters standing in his path. A male leech rushed him from behind. Spinning, Damon brought down his sword and chopped through the monster’s skull. Blood splattered his face.
He drew his sword back, only to have the weapon wrenched from his grasp as something huge tackled him from behind.
Spinning to face his attacker, Damon snatched his stake from his side and plunged the sharpened weapon downward. Huge hands caught his wrist, and he locked eyes with his opponent. His breath caught in his throat as he stood nose to nose with the shell of what had once been his best friend.
A blazing red pulsed in Mark’s eyes. He hissed and twisted Damon’s arm, trying to get him to release the stake. Damon gritted his teeth and pushed forward. He would not allow the pain constricting his chest to deter him. He would kill Mark, releasing his friend from the fate he’d always dreaded.
The two men met each other punch for punch and kick for kick. It was just like sparring class, where they’d always partnered to fight against each other. Being older and stronger, Damon had always won. He intended to win this time, too.
Mark stepped closer, and his fist collided with Damon’s gut. It was the one move Damon always caught him on. It was as if Mark was handing him the fight. Damon stepped into him, clutching Mark’s arm and using the weight of his body against him.
With the help of his hip, he dropped Mark onto his back, but Mark quickly shifted to his knees.
Damon brought the stake down with all his might. Mark grabbed Damon’s wrist, but he was at a clear disadvantage, on his knees with Damon standing over him. A loud yell ripped from Damon’s throat, releasing a fresh wave of adrenaline. He channeled all his energy into his biceps, struggling until he positioned the stake directly in front of Mark’s heart.
The vampire bared his teeth, battling with all his strength, but Damon held firm. One small shove and he could end this. He would keep his promise to his best friend, his fellow hunter. His whole body shook as he tried to force himself to do what he needed to.
Sweet Lord, help him. He had to murder his friend.
The pulsating red in Mark’s eyes flickered and for a quick moment his face slackened. The rage and fight disappeared from his expression completely.
“D-do it, Damon,” he stammered, before his eyes blazed crimson again.
Damon gritted his teeth and didn’t think twice. He plunged the wood of his stake straight into Mark’s heart. The blood of his only friend, his fellow hunter, of Tiffany’s brother, covered his face.
“Everybody out!” he heard someone scream.
A loud explosion sounded from his right, and a wave of heat washed over him. The force of the explosion knocked him to the ground. Fire spilled through the building.
With shaking hands, he wiped the crimson liquid from his eyes.
“Brock!” The Sergeant’s muffled yell carried from behind him.
Damon looked up and everything stopped.
For one long second he couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t function.
Amid the smoke and flames, a large vampire stood silhouetted on the opposite side of the room, his arm around Tiffany’s neck in a choke hold. She writhed against the bloodsucker’s grip, struggling fruitlessly against him.
Damon launched himself from the ground and sprinted full speed toward her. Several of his fellow hunters and the Sergeant hooked their arms through his and tugged him back. Damon fought against them with every ounce of strength he possessed. They struggled to hold him back.
“No! Let it go, Brock! No!” the Sergeant yelled in his ear.
As the vampire disappeared into the smoke of the building, carrying Tiffany with him, her head snapped in Damon’s direction.
&
nbsp; No!
A loud cry ripped from Damon’s throat as Tiffany’s eyes flashed crimson and she bared her fangs.
* * * * *
To find out the fates of Damon Brock and Tiffany Solow, you won’t want to miss a single volume of
THE EXECUTION UNDERGROUND the new miniseries by Kait Ballenger.
Look for volume one, TWILIGHT HUNTER, coming in September,
available wherever Harlequin HQN Books are sold.
Keep reading for a special sneak peek!
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From the moment he pulled his gun on her, Frankie Amato knew what he was. A hunter. She’d stumbled onto a hunter. Still in wolf form, she stared down the barrel of his gun with fear and adrenaline pumping through her veins. A large lump filled her throat.
The rumors are true.
What had she gotten herself into? Humans—and hunters—had murdered her kind for centuries, but she hadn’t expected this. A hunter in Rochester—on her turf. How could she have been so oblivious?
In the past few months several lone wolves who’d refused to join her pack had been murdered. As Alpha to the Rochester Pack, it was her job to protect her people and keep them out of harm’s way. But the protection she guaranteed didn’t extend to the Rogue wolves, so she hadn’t given more than a fleeting thought to the rumors that they’d died at the hands of a hunter. Now the voices of gossip and the murmurs of trouble that had spread like wildfire through her clan smacked her in the face like a major reality check.
After Dark Page 28
