I cast her a sharp look, and she chuckled. She didn’t know how close to the truth she was getting.
The electronic voice chimed in, directing me to turn right, and I did. The neighborhood wasn’t nearly as upscale compared to where the other one was located. The buildings were mostly sided with shingled roofs and broad parking lots. There were a few cars still in place, but there were also many open areas, some where the asphalt cracked, and weeds began to push through. I saw a few people meandering toward their rides, faces slick with perspiration.
I circled the block once. There was no light shining through the windows, and I could see no movement behind the cloudy panes of glass. If someone was still there, they were taking care to not be seen.
I maneuvered the car into the lot two doors down from our target building and extinguished the engine, cutting short the stream of chilled air. The silence was deafening. I felt something tickle at the back of my mind. I was sensing something, and it made me jittery.
“I’m going to go ahead and check it out,” I told Alex.
“Not without me, you’re not,” Alex said immediately. “Something feels bad here, and I believe in safety in numbers.”
“If I run into anyone,” I began, but she cut me off.
“If the bad guys come, I think we’ll work better together. Especially if you don’t have to worry about what I’m up to, and I don’t have to worry about you.”
I bit my lip, undecided. I regretted not having prepared her about a few of our otherworldly problems. She couldn’t exactly be bracing for an Infernal Lord or hellhound if I never mentioned to her what she was up against. Of course, it would have taken a lot of persuading, and there was still a solid chance she wouldn’t have believed me. I checked my dagger in the sheath, and double checked to make sure the gun was loaded. If Alex was going to learn about the other side of reality, I guessed real life would be our best bet.
“Okay, you come with me, but understand, you may run into people you don’t know how to fight. If I tell you to stand down, you get out of my way. Okay?”
Alex’s lip quirked in a small smile. “Very John Wayne of you, Samantha,” she teased. Then she sobered. “I’ll get out of your way if you need me to.”
I opened my car door, and Alex did the same, rising in a smooth motion, making me remember the number of times she threw me to the ground in our sparring days. She was a good fighter then. I hoped she kept in shape now.
I paused next to the car. I could go to the trunk and take out the katana. But there were still people milling around, and I didn’t want the cops called. I could imagine talking to the police. Well, officer, I know I have a big sword, but I needed it in case there was a vampire in the warehouse I was breaking into. No, maybe I would wait to bring out the weapon if I turned up anything.
Wordlessly, we headed for the other building, remaining close to the back of the neighboring structures, lingering in the shadows. At the warehouse, I stepped close to the window and squinted in.
This warehouse was larger than the other, but the concrete floors were stained with some dark substance and a fraction of the exposed bulbs dangling from the ceiling were missing or broken. There was no light aside from the illumination coming through the windows on the opposite side of the long room. It didn’t look as though anyone was home, but I still felt as though spiders were creeping up my arms.
The windows in the warehouse were higher off the ground, so I realized they would not be a suitable access to gain entry. I would have to try another approach.
I inched closer to the door and tried the handle. Locked. I smiled grimly. Long before the nuns got their hands on me, I practiced some less than legal enterprises. B and E, as a minor, gave me a strange kick. I broke into countless houses in the neighborhoods surrounding our boarding school, using only the slender picks I still owned. I brought them with me wherever I went.
The lock giving way with the smallest click gave me a modest surge of adrenaline. Whoever installed the security here was obviously not concerned about people breaking in. That was perhaps because they might have other alternative measures for security. The notion made me check over my shoulder to where Alex stood, tense and alert, her eyes skimming the area like any good backup.
I opened the door a crack and peered in. When I saw no motion, I swung it wider and stepped through. Alex followed me, her hand at her side, close to where the handle of her gun was pressed against her ribs.
I nodded to her, and she eased the door closed behind her. Slowly I started circling the space, using my flashlight from my cell phone to light my path.
Nothing and more nothing. It was obvious the building saw heavy usage recently. There were smudges and scuffs on the floor, marks that would have been made dragging large cartons or other containers from one area to another. There were also clear marks of shelving which must have rested on one side of the building, the long ribbons of lighter concrete showing where the floor remained clean under something. More shelving stood positioned in the center of the floor, metal and wood industrial pieces which stood three feet over our heads. I quickly trotted to the end of one of the aisles, shining my light down first one, then another.
They were empty, but there was still trash left behind, crumpled papers and fast food cartons, receipts and cigarette butts on the floor. Someone began cleaning the warehouse, but for some reason, they never finished the task.
Like the other warehouse, there appeared to be an office at the other end of the area, the door closed. A window was cut into the facing wall so the people in the office could supervise the activities on the floor of the warehouse. From behind the glass, I thought I detected a glint of light. I backed up and beckoned Alex to me.
“I think there’s someone in the office,” I whispered. She immediately looked toward the window.
“I’m going to go over there and try to flush them out. You stay over here and watch the door. If they take off, keep an eye on them, but don’t hold them. And alert me.”
Alex pulled the gun out, and I nodded and did the same.
I turned toward the office, again keeping to the periphery of the space, trying to remain close to the wall. I could only assume whoever was in the office heard us come in and saw my flashlight as I walked around the area.
Which led to a more significant question. If they saw me, why didn’t they come out to challenge me? Either they thought I needed to come in and meet them, or they decided they would hide out in hopes I neglected the office.
Scared or setting up an ambush?
I arrived at the office door and plastered myself to the wall next to it. If the door was locked, it would be yet another barrier to get through. If it was unlocked, then I would have to consider if it was a trap, and some creep would be on the other side, gun loaded to blow me away.
My finger went to the cool metal of the doorknob, and I grasped it. It felt slippery in my grip. I suppressed a curse. Before I could get a stronger grasp, I felt the knob turn beneath my fingers. Someone on the other side was opening the door. It swung in ever so gradually, and the atmosphere of wrongness washed over me like a wave, as it did with the woman on the beach.
He strolled out of the room like a man with all the confidence in the world. He smelled of money, an aftershave with the slightest tinge of wintergreen following in his wake. He wore dark pants and a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, a patterned tie of crimson and blue loosened around his neck leaving his throat exposed. His hair was a short burr, a ring of golden red around his skull, thinning in the middle. He carried no gun, no blade, no weapon at all. Danger seeped out of him, and damn, he glided when he walked.
I backed away from my position until I was clear of the hallway, not wanting to be corned by this thing.
“How do you do?” the undead asked, his hand out as though he thought I would touch him.
I backed a little further away. “Who are you?”
“I am Paul Roberts.” His tone bore the flat accent of a
northerner.
“Paul, I think you showed up at the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Oh, my dear Ms. Tyler, I don’t think so at all.”
His voice was velvety smooth, and hearing my name made my stomach twist. “And what are you, another vampire in training?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “As for what I am...”
“Then riddle me this, why are you here?” I tipped my head, watching him as he stood oh so still. “Are you part of the cleanup crew?”
I could see by the expression on his face he was insulted. That was fine.
“I am not,” he replied a little stiffly. “Consider me,” he paused for effect, “the welcoming committee.” His smile was a tad too broad, and he gave a little bow.
“Thanks for that,” I replied wryly. “But I didn’t need any welcome.” I glanced around the warehouse. “What was Wheadon doing with this place?”
“Oh, now, that wouldn’t be any fun,” the undead said quietly. “I don’t want to give it up quite so easily.” He took a step toward me, his body casual and loose. “Tell you what. How about I take you to see someone. You’ll get all of your questions answered, just like that.” He snapped his fingers.
I shook my head. “Um, no,” I said. “How about you tell me what you know, and I don’t send you back to hell.”
His lips quirked. “Such an offer,” he said. “Ms. Tyler, if you come with me now, I won’t kill you. You have my word.”
“I really don’t feel like it would be in my best interest to trust you,” I began, “but if you have a name and address, I would be happy to drop by at my own time.”
“Ms. Tyler,” he was shaking his head with mock sorrow. “I don’t want to fight with you. There are so many better ways for us to,” now his voice dipped in an intimate murmur, “get to know one another.”
From behind me I heard a voice call my name. Alex heard us talking and was heading our way.
“Alex,” I commanded, my voice swallowed in the hollow space. “Stay back. Stay away. I have this handled.”
“Handled?” Roberts smirked. “Ah, my dear, I am over 200 years old. I have seen generations of people be born and die. I am not one who is easily handled.”
“Big talk,” I countered. I pointed my gun right at the bridge of his nose, but it wouldn’t be useful for anything but a distraction. The knife was better, but still not the ideal weapon. I really needed the katana. Taking this guy’s head would be the only sure way to put him down for good unless I found a handy flame thrower laying around. Using a knife to do it would be a huge challenge. I lifted my leg and slid the knife from its sheath, holding the gun in one hand, the knife in the other.
I edged around the perimeter of our invisible circle, keeping my distance. The genial undead put out his hands, palms up, in a gesture of good will.
“I must say, Ms. Tyler, I am delighted to meet you.” He smiled, and I could see teeth a tad too long.
“Really?”
“I knew your father. We worked rather closely together.”
“So that would only confirm you were with him in the Satanic church,” I said flatly. I was hoping Alex was listening. I was praying she wouldn’t interfere. She had absolutely no idea what we were up against, and I didn’t want this smooth talking undead to fool her into dropping her guard. Not warning her about this possibility was the definition of stupidity.
“Ah, church. Yes, well, I must report I am yet a member. A particularly enthusiastic member,” he emphasized the word enthusiastic. “When the Lord of Light reclaims his place in Heaven, I will be one of those rewarded for my service.
“Nice,” I replied.
“All you need to do,” Roberts added in an even tone, “is rejoin the fold. All your past,” here he paused, “transgressions will be forgiven.”
For almost a year I worked for my father, helping with the Church of the Light Reclaimed. I didn't think any of it was serious. Satanists? To me they were like people who believed in the Easter Bunny. A bit eccentric but otherwise harmless. I found out how wrong I was when people started dying around me.
“Even stealing all the money from the church’s coffers?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. “I don’t think so. You guys have tried several times over to kill me because I stole your cash.”
When I left, I'd stolen thirty-million dollars in a failed attempt to keep them from killing innocent children. The church was stopped in the end thanks to the Hand of God, and then Victor hid the money.
“You have other value to us now,” he said, his voice deep and luxurious. “Join us, Samantha.”
“Not bloody likely.” a voice came from behind me, and Alex barreled past, in her hands a long strip of metal, part of a shelf at a guess. She blew past me, reminding me how fast she could still run.
Then things went to hell.
The metal was aimed for Roberts’ chest, and I wondered why she didn’t chose to shoot him. I didn’t have long to consider it, though. Roberts’ hand reached out with a blur of speed, and he swept the metal to the side, throwing Alex off balance. He backhanded her, the sound of the blow reverberating through the warehouse and spinning Alex around. He moved gracefully, catching Alex by the back of her blouse, and launching her, like something from a movie, across the room. I watched her soar through the air, her body tumbling limp, the movement in a sickening slow motion. Then, she landed on her side on the dirty concrete, skidding a few feet, and lay still. Then it wasn’t like a movie. She didn’t get up. She lay there, small and still, my best friend.
I felt the roar rather than heard it, the sound seeming to come from outside of me rather than from my own throat. The knife was in my hands, sharp and precise, and I whipped it toward him. Alex’s attack slightly distracted him, and I buried the blade in his throat below his chin and thrust it up. His hands flew to this neck, and I spun in a tight circle and swept him off his feet with a leg kick. His body hit the floor, yet I knew this wouldn’t kill him, destroy him, whatever. But he was down at least for a moment, so I dove past him toward where Alex was still on the concrete, hearing the tortured gasping sound as he tried to speak around the blade.
Two men dressed in black overalls, the de facto uniform for Church goons, stepped out of the office. One held a box and the other a stack of manila folders. Seeing Roberts down for the count, they both dropped what they were carrying, their hands going inside their overalls.
There was no conscious thought, no inner debate. I quickly raised my gun and squeezed off two quick shots, hitting both center mass and both men went down, not moving.
I returned my focus to Alex and touched the side of her neck, feeling the strong pulse. I glanced back to where Roberts was still sprawled out on the concrete, and seeing him still lying there inert, I started running my hands down Alex’s limbs. I could feel no bones broken, no obvious dislocations. There was a sizable bump rising on the side of her head, and I worried she had suffered a concussion or worse. If her spine was compromised, there was no hope. I couldn’t leave her here to wait for an ambulance. As soon as Roberts recovered and was on his feet, he would be after us.
The blessed blade of my knife, provided by the sisters at the abbey, gave me a few precious seconds. Most normal knives would not have slowed him down since the undead don't feel human pain, and some even regenerate the damaged body part, but a blade blessed by a holy man or woman makes the damage created harder to heal. I saw it in action once, on the beach, and the sisters assured me it would help in my battles. With the undead still down it appeared they were right.
Now I needed to get moving. This undead wouldn’t spare my friend despite his show of gentlemanly manners. I was sure he was furious, and I wanted Alex to be far away when he regained his strength. And there was no way to know if other Church soldiers would be on the way. If I tried to finish him and failed, Alex would die.
I grabbed Alex, gently pulling her up from under her arms, wincing as her head lolled to the side and her arms were completely lax. I realized I w
as chanting low under my breath, words of encouragement for my friend, as I slowly dragged her toward the door.
I saw Roberts’s arm raise, and I froze. I watched as one pale hand clutched at the knife in his throat and then flutter away, and I started to move, faster now and with less care not to hurt Alex. Better she suffers pain now than be caught by the monster. The undead loved causing pain and were quite creative in how they administered their punishment.
The heat immediately enveloped me as we got through the door. I pulled Alex free and watched as the door swung closed, cutting off my view of the downed vampire. My car was three doors down, an eternity of dragging for me and my hurt companion. I moaned low in my throat, my eyes scanning my surroundings looking for movement.
I heard the whine of an engine and glanced up. A white truck came rolling down the street, and I eased Alex down onto the hot pavement, rushing into the road waving my arms and calling. The driver, a deeply tanned man in his fifties with a ridiculous mustache and ropy muscled arms, braked abruptly while I stood in front of his vehicle, his eyes wide and alarmed.
“Please, please,” I begged. “We have to get my friend to a hospital. She’s been attacked.”
The man’s brown eyes went from my wild-eyed face to where Alex lay on the pavement and nodded.
“Quickly,” I said, hitching my breath.
He slammed the truck into park and slid out of his seat following me asking at the same time, “shouldn’t you get an ambulance, ma’am?”
“I can’t wait for one,” I said, letting hysteria enter my tone. A hysteria not far from the truth. “We have to go now.”
He obediently helped me lift Alex, taking her feet while I tried to support her head and shoulders in a slow movement across the road. When we got to the van, he lowered her while he opened the back cargo area, revealing shelves welded into the side of the truck, pots and vases of floral arrangements making a disjointed flower garden in the back of the truck. There was room to lift Alex in, and this time, he took her body from me and carried her himself into the area. I hopped into the back of the truck after him, my heart pounding as I settled next to my friend.
Vengeance (A Samantha Tyler Thriller Book 1) Page 7
