Vampire (Alpha Claim 8-Final Enforcement): New Adult Paranormal Romance (Vampire Alpha Claim)

by Eros, Marata

Everybody else nodded their agreement, but I read doubt in every face.

  Brett looked relieved, Carson satisfied.

  “See ya,” Carson said, walking off.

  Brett cast a glance back at Jade then followed Carson. I didn't like him looking at Jade that way, but it wasn’t the time to make a scene.

  Once the pair was out of earshot, Jonesy said, “We need to close that gate from now on. I don't like them skulking around.”

  Tiff said, “I trust him about as far as I can throw him.”

  “Me too,” Bry said, eyes narrowing on their disappearing figures.

  “You don't even know them,” Jade pointed out.

  “No, but I know guys like them.”

  “Carson's a pyro.” Sophie said.

  “Oh... great ,” Bry said. “Wait, why didn't he light somebody up? Pyros always have to show off.”

  “I was tuned up,” John said.

  Bry looked a question at John. “ You're the Null? That's right!” he smacked his forehead, then winced. “Last night, you guys were testing that out... g ood thing John’s on our side.”

  John chuckled, then his expression became serious. “We're all just pawns on his chessboard. He's made a move, trying to take us off-guard. Next, he'll strike when we're not expecting it.”

  “We'll have to be expecting it then,” I said. I put my arm around Jade.

  “Ouch!”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” she said. “It’s just kinda sore.”

  “We want to look,” Jonesy said. Wounds fascinated him.

  Jade blushed but lifted up her shirt a little. The injury looked markedly worse. The beginning of the bruise extended even further, a rainbow of various shades.

  “Definite flogging,” Jonesy said, his fingertips skating over the wound.

  Jade lowered her shirt. “He's in jail still. He can't make bail, and Andrea won't pay, either.”

  I thought it was great his butt was in a holding cell.

  I told the ones who arrived late that my dad had a plan to take the heat off of me.

  Bry nodded. “That's good.”

  “He's right, Caleb,” Jade said.

  “It's not just me,” I said. “It's any of us, all of us...”

  “If Kyle can help with an idea, we can maybe have normal lives,” John said.

  Bry said, “Be sure and pulse me and Tiff. I want to know what's happening. And for the record, I don't trust that ferret Carson.”

  My lips pulled in a grim line. Me neither. “Yeah, I'll let ya know.”

  “Hey, Jade,” Sophie said. “Maybe you should go to the doctor.”

  Jade shook her head. “Can't. No health insurance.”

  I stared at her. “You don't have the chip?”

  “No. Those were being done on a day I missed school, around the time when my mom died,” she said softly.

  Jonesy said, “It's all right. If it's a busted rib, they can't do jack anyway.”

  “Let's get out of here,” I said. “I need to regroup with my parents.”

  We all got on our bikes. I stayed in place while I waited for Jade to get on hers. She was moving pretty slowly.

  John pulled up beside me.

  “Faster,” she said, breathing through the pain. I balanced my right foot in the dirt, the bike seat riding right under my butt and put a hand on the back of Jade's head, showing her with my eyes I was sorry she was hurting.

  “I'm sorry I couldn't stop him.”

  “It could have been worse, you deflected it.”

  “I guess,” I said. She was trying to make me feel better about it.

  Not working.

  “Caleb?” John asked.

  Balancing on my toes I turned to him. “Yeah.” My hand slid away from Jade.

  “If Parker said your house was bugged and you guys talked about Garcia, don't the Graysheets know all of that now, too?” he asked.

  I had a moment of panic so big I couldn't breathe.

  Jade reached out and put her hand on my arm. “It's okay. Wouldn't something bad have happened by now if they knew?”

  My heart felt loaded up in my throat, stalled. I couldn’t even speak.

  Jonesy said, “Let's just ride to your house and ask your dad. He'll know what to do.”

  “You okay now?” John asked.

  Jonesy gave me a hard guy-clap on my back. “Caleb's okay, aren't ya?”

  I looked at our group, the Js and Jade.

  Whatever happened after I got home, I had them.

  CHAPTER 35

  I dumped my bike on the front lawn and ran for the porch. I rushed through the front door, not bothering to close it.

  “What's the problem, Caleb?” Dad asked, rising off the couch. He leaned to the side to look behind me.

  Jade and the Js came in. Mom gave me a puzzled look, with more than a dash of anxiety.

  I put my index finger to my lips then pointed toward the back deck. My parents nodded.

  All of us moved out there.

  “What's going on?” Dad asked.

  “Remember I told you the Graysheets bugged our house?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, we talked about everything last night—Garcia, them, all our ideas. Then this morning, I told you where the hideout was.”

  Dad looked relieved. “It's okay, Caleb. When I spoke with Garcia last night, he gave me directions on how to neutralize the bugs, and I answered yes or no. There's no way the Graysheets could have heard. Unless they're telepathic and could understand more than a yes or a no. He made sure I didn’t let on about it in the house. It’s all fixed.”

  I let the breath I'd been holding out in a rush.

  “How'd you deactivate the bugs?” John asked.

  “Garcia figured it would be a pulse-based system interface.”

  “Doesn't that flat-line everything in your house? Pulse, lights, everything?” Jade asked.

  “Yes, our system has an automatic reset. If all pulse is deactivated, it automatically resets all known devices.”

  I got it. “Their stuff wasn't included in the start-up because it didn't register.”

  Dad nodded.

  “Nice,” Jonesy said.

  “They'll know when they can't hear us anymore,” I said.

  “It's temporary, putting the kibosh on their surveillance, which brings me to a new point,” Dad said.

  Here we go.

  “I think we should go to that journalist who worked on those articles about Parker—Tim Anderson.”

  “Why? What can he do for us?” I asked.

  “He can make them hesitate,” Mom said.

  “You mean from taking me again?”

  “Taking anyone, Caleb. It's bigger than just you. Everyone who is a five-point should not have to live under the threat of loss of liberty. Your safety is paramount. If we visit Anderson, he exposes them, keeping the Graysheets planning their next strategy rather than executing.”

  “Let's lift their skirt and make them worry about their panties,” Jonesy said.

  Mom and Jade looked at him.

  “What? That's like a perfect… um…”

  “Analogy,” John said.

  “Humph!” Mom commented.

  Dad was making the I'm-not-going-to-smile face that gave his mouth a strange, crooked look. “I've already contacted him, and he’s meeting us at six.”

  I was starving. Even with Jade as a constant distraction, I needed to fill the hole. I looked at Mom.

  “Those pancakes all gone?” she guessed.

  “Mine are!” Jonesy said, sensing food was close.

  “You didn't have pancakes,” I said, suspicious.

  Jonesy discounted my comment with a wave of his hand. “Doesn't matter, I haven't eaten in hours.” He moaned dramatically, clutching his stomach.

  Mom grinned. “We have some leftover pizza.”

  John asked, “Is there enough?”

  “Always.”

  As we devoured the pizza, we talked about Ande
rson. We decided that all of us going would give more credit to the story.

  “The point is,” Dad said between bites, “the kids' presence may lend a degree of validity that would otherwise not be there. We'd go there and look like hysterical parents bent on some anti-government zealotry.”

  “But you're not hysterical,” I said mid-bite.

  “Yeah, Caleb,” Jonesy said. “There's a ton of nut jobs out there, waiting to crack.”

  “You're on it today, Jonesy,” John said.

  “Every day, pal.” Jonesy winked.

  Jade rolled her eyes, and we all laughed.

  ***

  The Seattle Post-Intelligencer office was at Kent Station in the valley. Dad easily found a parking spot, completely unheard of in our city of two hundred thousand. We all got out of the car. The Js started to sprint ahead to the door.

  “Hang on, kids,” Dad said, without looking up from his pulse.

  Mom was still fumbling with her stuff. She tucked her dedicated pulse-reader into her purse.

  “Mom, seriously? The DR?”

  I guess she'd die without a book to read.

  We walked toward the building, which was all height and glass. It looked like a giant sea-green jewel spearing the sky. The huge sign on top read, “Seattle Post-Intelligencer” in electric-blue letters.

  Inside, we got in line for the pulse body scan. Terrorist threats were such a damn drag. All points of entry: police, fire, media were all protected by Pulse-scan.

  A rotund gal with a perma-bored expression stood at the ready with the Pulse-wand, primed to do the next wand pass. “Come forward please. Arms up, turn around. Next.”

  I knew Jonesy was going to have trouble with the urge-to-laugh-at-inappropriate-times when he started to cover his mouth. This problem of his was terribly contagious. Thankfully, Jade and I were already through the line.

  But John wasn't.

  Out of the three of us, John being the most serious personality, had the worst trouble calming down once Jonesy began laughing.

  John tried, he really did, but Jonesy burst out laughing the instant the dour TSA worker said,“Next.”

  John doubled over, laughing. His face turned tomato-red.

  The TSA gal made it worse by spluttering, “Young man, stand up!”

  Jonesy yelled, “Anal probe! Right here!” and pointed over the top of John's back. Which caused John to roar with laughter, falling down hard on his bony ass.

  The TSA agent flattened her lips in a thin line.

  Dad stepped in and said, “I'm quite sorry about their behavior. It's been a trying day. They're a bit... giddy.”

  The TSA woman looked down at John, who had tears streaming out of his eyes. “Straighten up right now, young man!”

  John whooped, trying to make a mad dash that looked like a drunken stagger.

  Mom and Jade had mouths hanging agape, even my laid-back parents were somewhat embarrassed.

  John's mouth started to twitch, but he managed to contain it. He was still making the funny mouth, trying not to burst out again, Mom was talking sternly to Jonesy, his back to us.

  “I'm really sorry about that. I don't know what my problem was.”

  “Arms up,” humorless said. “Turn-around. Next!”

  John, suitably chagrined, walked over to Jade and me.

  Dad, last through security, motioned for us all to huddle up. “Come close, fellas.” When we all leaned in, Dad looked straight at Jonesy. “I better not have any more of this behavior. Jonesy: control your bullshit.”

  Jonesy blanched. I had ever heard Dad swear. A silence fell over our loose circle.

  Dad straightened. “Follow me.”

  He strode off. Jonesy and John trailed behind with their tails between their legs. I took Jade’s hand, and we walked beside Mom.

  ***

  Tim Anderson just flat-out didn't believe us.

  Dad tried to reason with him, but Anderson interrupted my dad with, “Dazzle me, guys.” He looked at me. “Can something die and you raise it?”

  I gaped at him. “What? You mean like right here?”

  Anderson shook his head and turned back to my dad. “Listen, Dr. Hart, I know you're the principal scientist with regard to the genome map. Terrific. But do you really expect me to put my—excuse me, ladies—nut-sack on the line for some wild stories about a five-point AFTD running amok with his friends and some shadowy government co-op dispatched to acquire him?”

  He's starting to piss me off.

  Dad began drumming his fingers on Anderson's desk. He looked as angry as I felt.

  Mom huffed. “What would we have to possibly gain from making up a story about our own son?”

  Anderson shrugged. “Who knows? I get whack-jobs all the time coming in here and spraying their lies all over. I'm not inclined to believe things on hearsay. I'm a journalist, guys.”

  Dad slapped his hand on the desk, rattling the glass pen holder. “We are not crazy or making things up.” He waved at Jade.

  Anderson leaned back in his chair, unfazed by Dad's outburst.

  “Jade, show Mr. Anderson what's going on.”

  Jade stood and walked over to Anderson. A predatory smile I’d never seen before played on her face.

  “What are you doing, girlie?” Anderson asked her.

  Jade just smiled wider then touched his shoulder. He jumped.

  “Seeing,” she answered.

  Emotions flew across her face as she read Anderson.

  Anderson pushed her hand away. “That's enough of that.”

  He looked pretty shaken.

  Jade turned to Dad. “He wants an exclusive if he can have proof. Otherwise, it's just a wild goose chase.”

  “Are you quoting him?” Mom asked.

  “Yes... no. I mean, people think in images, and I saw geese in his head and him chasing them.”

  “It's an old expression,” Anderson said quietly.

  “He wants to go to the ghost cemetery,” Jade said.

  He glared at her.

  “Well, you didn't believe us,” I said.

  Dad stood. “Let's do it. You see some of the evidence, and then you write something. Seems clear cut.”

  “He will,” Jade said.

  “Must be a nice skill, girlie,” Anderson said.

  I grimaced.

  “It's Jade, not 'girlie.’”

  CHAPTER 36

  The cemetery was exactly as I remembered it, except instead of being silvered by moonlight it had a hazy white quality. The evening sun hung low in the sky, slanting through the trees.

  Tim Anderson strode forward, moving between the tombstones and heading toward the caretaker's cottage. He arrived at the front steps and turned around to face us. “Where, oh where, is the crashed stealth chopper? The gun casings? The knives? The remnants of battle?”

  We all started scouring the graveyard. Apart from a few tromped-down places of flat grass between the graves, there wasn't a mark anywhere. I couldn’t believe it. There was no way they could have cleaned this place up overnight.

  Jonesy opened his mouth, and Dad held up a finger in warning. I guess Dad was up to here with Jonesy.

  Jonesy nodded then calmly asked, “What about the tombstone that got whacked by the chopper blade? And what about the blade that got stuck in the ground?”

  We sprinted to the spot where we thought the chopper had landed. The marker was gone, completely gone. Only the hole where it had been was left.

  “They took the whole damn thing!” Jonesy yelled.

  Anderson bent down and trailed his fingers over the displaced dirt that hadn't been exposed in over a century. “You might have something here.”

  John yelled from a few feet away, “Look at this!”

  We ran over there. Well, we kids ran. The adults sort of walked fast. John pointed at a place where a huge gouge had been dug in the dirt. On either side was a crescent-moon shaped swath, like a smile, with the center being a deep well.

  “Just a minute.”
I ran over and grabbed a long stick from the nearby patch of trees. I returned and stuck it into the hole until I felt it touch bottom. I put my fingers on the stick at the lip of the hole, then pulled it out and held it against me.

  Dad said, “That’s about four feet.”

  “Looks like you guys might have been telling the truth,” Anderson said. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking up at the sky, then back at the wound in the earth. “Let’s go back to my office.”

  *

  Back at Anderson's office, where we passed through security unscathed by hysterics, we sat for a solid hour, telling our story. His pulse recorder loaded everything directly to his pulse-top.

  A couple of times, Anderson remarked or asked a question to clarify something. But mostly, he just listened. Finally, we were finished.

  “Well, that's one helluva story there. A real humdinger. I can understand you coming to me, or someone like me. I will do my best, tonight,” Anderson said.

  “Tonight?” Dad asked.

  “Yeah, my boss is going to be thrilled. But better than that, it offers a little protection for your kid there.” Anderson pointed at me. “I'm not a real introspective guy, but I'd say you've been given something special. It's how you use it that'll make a difference.”

  Standing up, he offered his hand to Dad. “Sorry I was so tough on you in the beginning. It's been a pleasure. You've got a good kid here, Dr. Hart.”

  “You can call me Kyle,” Dad said.

  He smiled at me. “I know we do.”

  “Those other two though...” Anderson waggled his finger at the Js. “They may be trouble.”

  Then he laughed, taking the sting out of it.

  CHAPTER 37

  The article came out and sensationalized the paranormal community. People believed what they wanted to believe. Some thought it was a greatly exaggerated story about a bunch of teenagers who got together to be wild in cemeteries. Others thought the government was putting its nose where it didn't belong, endangering the new generation of kids.

  Still others thought the drug cocktail gave humanity a key to power that came with a huge price tag.

  Having survived the last few months, I had to agree.