Ami took the lead, Marcus and Seth just behind her. Roland and Sarah brought up the rear.
A half hour later, Ami held up her free hand to call a halt. Drawing a Glock 18 with her right hand, she touched the fingers of her left to her right wrist, then sighted down the barrel to the northwest, indicating the enemy’s position.
Just through those trees, she murmured in his head.
Heat swept through Marcus and pooled in his groin. She had never spoken to him telepathically before, and the feel of her in his head, her warm timbre firing his neurons, made him want to strip her bare and have her right then and there.
Focus, Seth intoned.
He might as well have thrown a bucket of ice water on Marcus.
Right. Focus. Now was not the time.
But later he intended to ask her to talk to him telepathically while they made love. Over and over again.
File formation, Seth spoke in their heads and took point position.
As Ami fell in behind Seth and Marcus moved in behind her, he realized she had very cleverly led them to the lair from downwind. If any vampires were awake (unlikely at this hour), they would not catch the group’s scent.
Sarah followed Marcus with Roland right on her heels. No one made a sound as they drew their weapons and crept forward. Not even Ami, yet another anomaly explained away by her Lasaran heritage.
Line abreast, Seth instructed.
Marcus drew even with Ami as she stepped into a clearing, but remained in the shadows cast by the trees.
Silent, the five studied their surroundings. A bright golden sun hovered in an otherwise empty sky. A single-story frame home that had seen far better days sat drunkenly on slanted ground in the meadow’s center. It wasn’t very large, so Marcus assumed the so-called vampire king and his soldiers had dug tunnels beneath it in which to shelter during the day.
Marcus wondered fleetingly what had happened to the home’s owners. Bastien had purchased the land on which he had housed his army. But Bastien was immortal. He had spent two centuries investing and building his capital, altering his identity to keep humans none the wiser.
Vampires couldn’t do that. They didn’t remain lucid long enough. The fact that this vampire, the one who had crowned himself king, had kept his crap together long enough to organize all of this was a first.
Or had Montrose Keegan done it?
At least, Keegan was one problem they had solved.
He smiled down at Ami. Or one Ami had solved. Man, he loved her.
I’ll punch you if I have to, Seth warned.
Marcus grinned at him over Ami’s red curls. No need. I can love Ami and kick ass at the same time. I’m multifunctional.
Lips twitching, Seth looked at the others. I will return shortly. He was gone in a blink.
No animals or insects stirred, almost as if the vampires’ presence had spawned a large dead zone in which nothing could survive. Or in which nothing wished to live.
Seth returned, a large bundle in his arms.
Marcus held his breath as the immortal leader gently set it on the ground just inside the trees. Napalm-B was one of the few things that could kill an immortal.
Straightening, Seth focused on the house. Any movement?
Marcus shook his head.
Good. Shoulder to shoulder.
As soon as they complied with his order, Seth teleported them onto the warped wooden floorboards of the front porch.
Roland, Sarah, stay close to the door and don’t let any vampires leave if an alarm should sound. Ami and Marcus, with me.
Seth opened the front door.
Marcus stiffened when the hinges creaked, but no attack ensued.
When Seth stepped inside, Ami and Marcus followed.
So many offending aromas struck them that Marcus had to breathe through his mouth instead of his nose. Old blood. Putrefaction. Urine. Excrement. Many, many unwashed bodies. Stale beer. Rotting fast food.
Rays of sunshine, swimming with sparkling dust motes, struggled through grimy windows to illuminate a living room clogged with stained and tattered furniture, drifts of garbage, and Marcus really didn’t want to know what else.
He’s below us, Ami said, her eyes on the filthy wood floor.
All of the vampires were by the sounds of it. Marcus could hear a plethora of heartbeats beneath his feet.
Seth motioned for them to stay put, then teleported to the kitchen and disappeared from sight.
The shadows around them moved. A familiar sinking sensation suffused Marcus’s stomach as a chill rippled across his skin. Dread rising, he watched ethereal figures shuffle along the fringes of the room.
Ami eased closer until her shoulder pressed against his arm. Everything okay?
Can you hear me if I think a response?
Yes.
The spirits of some of the vamps’ victims are here.
She looked around uneasily. How many?
Marcus swallowed hard. Enough to erase whatever remorse I might have felt about killing every vampire we encounter.
Seth reappeared in front of them. The door to the basement is in the kitchen. I’ll teleport you to it so the creaky floor won’t give us away.
A heartbeat later, they stood before the door, then at the base of the steps just inside it.
Unbroken darkness swallowed them.
Marcus forgot the creepy ghosts as fear for Ami swelled in him. She couldn’t fight what she couldn’t see. The last time she had tried to fight in darkness, she had wound up with multiple wounds and a knife sticking out of her back.
Seth drew something from an inner pocket of his coat and cupped Ami’s free hand around it.
Night vision goggles. Her range would be limited, but at least she’d be able to see what was in front of her.
Ami donned the goggles, then tilted her head back and smiled up at Marcus. Don’t tell me: now I really look like an alien.
He smiled. A very sexy alien.
She flashed him a grin. And you’re hot when you’re green.
Amusement sifted through him.
I’m sure the vampire king will appreciate your collective beauty, Seth drawled, once we find him.
Ami apologized.
Unperturbed, Marcus glanced around.
The basement was piled high with various-sized boxes of the crap people who used their basements for storage usually crammed down there. Large holes had been knocked through two of the walls. Beyond lay passageways dug from the dirt and shored up with buttresses that looked less than stable.
Ami pointed to one of the tunnels. There. He’s down there.
Seth slid one of his katanas from its sheath and took the lead, Ami just behind him. Marcus drew both of his short swords and followed them up the narrow, dank passageway. Several rooms, like giant groundhog burrows, branched off on either side. Within them, Marcus could see unkempt heaps of vampires sprawled on the ground by the dozen, sleeping as though dead.
Seth kept moving forward until Ami touched his back.
There. She pointed into one of the dirt caves.
Marcus stared.
A massive, king-sized, four-poster bed had been plunked down in the center of the room, a garish, golden monstrosity Étienne would say screamed new money. Red velvet and gold silk material, water stained and streaked with dirt and blood, draped the ceiling and walls in clumsy curtains. An actual throne, as heavy and horrifically tacky as the bed, rested in one corner, the only other furniture present. At its base lay the bloody, broken corpse of a young woman. A fresh kill.
Marcus returned his attention to the bed.
The man in the center is the king, Ami said.
The red satin sheets, as filthy as everything else present, tangled around a thin figure sprawled on his stomach in a long, dark coat. Marcus recognized him as the vamp who had wielded the tranquilizer pistol. Three vampires slept curled on their sides at the foot of the bed like pets. Over a dozen others slumbered on the floor in a circle around the king, crude weapons in hand.
If any one of them awoke and sounded an alarm, the others would rise to attack, and their brethren would pour down the tunnel.
New plan, Seth said and touched their shoulders.
The next thing Marcus knew, they stood beside Sarah and Roland on the front porch.
Squinting against the sudden afternoon brightness, Ami tugged the night vision goggles down and let them hang around her neck.
Return to the trees where we arrived and prepare to silence and restrain the vampire king, Seth instructed, then vanished.
Marcus sheathed his weapons, picked up Ami, and raced for the trees.
Roland and Sarah got there a millisecond before he did.
Can you still hear me, honey? Marcus asked Ami, as he set her down.
Yes.
Back away a safe distance and only fire your weapons if you have to.
Careful not to make a sound, Ami backed away and drew her other Glock. She didn’t bother to attach the silencers. Even the best silencer couldn’t quiet the report enough to keep a vampire from hearing it. And, as far as distant neighbors went, she didn’t think gunfire would be what stuck in their minds after today.
In the shade just inside the trees, Seth appeared, bent over with one hand on the back of the vampire king, who lay in the same position in which he had slept.
Dropping him, Seth leapt away and raced for the bundle.
As the vampire roused with a snarl and flipped over, Roland’s boot connected with the side of his head.
Ami cringed as she heard bone crack. Her heart slammed against her ribs as Marcus swooped in and grabbed the vampire by the throat, crushing his trachea and preventing a single sound from erupting.
Seth swept past in a breeze. Hurry. The others awake.
Ami stared, wide-eyed, at the bomb he carried as angry shouts erupted inside the house.
Get out of here, Seth urged as he placed it on the grass a few yards away. Now.
Sarah darted in and picked up the struggling vampire’s shoulders. Roland grabbed his flailing feet, which kicked hard enough to kill a mortal, and the two raced through the trees.
Ami made no sound as Marcus lifted her into his arms and urged her legs around his waist. She wrapped her arms around his neck, hands clutching the Glocks in unyielding grips. As Marcus hurried after Sarah and Roland, moving so quickly the forest around them blurred, Ami stared over his shoulder at the sunny clearing.
Through the foliage, she saw Seth’s form shift. Enormous wings burst through the back of his coat.
Ami gasped and lost sight of him as trees closed in around them.
Marcus took them far away in a matter of seconds, dodging trees Ami couldn’t even see at this speed. The blue sky above them burst into blinding light as thunder rumbled after them. Brilliant golden flames reached toward the heavens as shrieks and howls of agony swelled in a macabre chorus.
Ami buried her face in Marcus’s neck. Warm wind buffeted them, carrying with it more cries.
Not one of the vampires would survive. Marcus had told her that napalm-B would burn longer and at far higher temperatures than original napalm. The sticky substance would also cling to the vampires’ skin like glue and was just as difficult to shed.
Even immortals could not regenerate quickly enough to combat such a fire.
Seth! she cried mentally. Had the flames taken him, too?
I’m fine, sweetheart, he murmured.
Is he all right, Ami? Marcus asked.
Yes.
Marcus’s forward momentum slowed to mortal speeds. When he stopped, Ami unlocked her ankles and allowed her feet to slide down to the ground.
Several emergency response vehicles—fire trucks, an ambulance, unmarked cars with detachable sirens—had joined the van Ami and the others had left behind. Chris Reordon stood beside one of the cars, wearing a dark jacket that read DEA on the back and sleeves in large white letters.
Curses erupted as Roland and Sarah struggled to restrain the vampire king beneath a tree near the van.
Chris waved to the other vehicles.
Engines roared to life and sirens blared as they peeled away.
Marcus hurried over to lend Roland and Sarah a hand. Had they been allowed to kill the king, they would’ve had no problem. But they needed whatever information he could give them.
Ami held onto her Glocks in case the vampire managed to break free.
Chris strode forward and drew a familiar weapon. When he was close enough to ensure he wouldn’t hurt any of the immortals, he fired. A tranquilizer dart struck the vampire in the chest. His struggles ceased as his muscles went limp and his eyelids closed.
“Thank you,” Sarah said breathlessly.
All three immortals released their holds and let the vamp drop to the ground in a heap at their feet.
“No problem,” Chris said. “Glad to see you all made it out safely.” He handed Marcus the gun. “In case you need it later. Dr. Lipton duplicated the serum and made us several darts. Seth is waiting for me at the clearing and says he’ll meet you at the network.”
Marcus took the weapon. “Thanks.”
Chris returned to his car and, tires churning up dirt, sped away.
Roland slid open the van’s side door and tossed the vamp inside like old luggage. Ami holstered her weapons, climbed in, and got behind the wheel, since the sun wouldn’t harm her.
While Marcus settled on the seat behind her, she waited for relief to fill her. They had all made it out unharmed as Chris had said. Another uprising, hopefully the last uprising, had been halted in its tracks.
Roland waited for Sarah to enter, then sat beside her, and slid the door closed.
But those cries, those shrieks of agony ...
Ami thought they would haunt her for the rest of her life.
Chapter 18
Marcus had never visited the network headquarters in this region. The need had simply never arisen. But he had to admit he was impressed.
From the outside, the building possessed not one characteristic that would encourage a second glance. Set far back from the highway behind a thick wall of evergreens, it boasted only a single story. The windowless tan brick exterior appeared aged and worn. Had it lived and breathed, one would have expected to hear nothing from it but sighs of weariness.
The front door lacked windows that might allow peeks inside, though who would wander back this way he didn’t know. It sort of reminded Marcus of a storage facility for a package delivery company: wide, uninteresting, with a large parking lot behind it.
Inside was a whole other story.
Roland, Sarah, Marcus, and Ami headed for the front entrance. The immortals still wore their protective suits, and Roland carried the vampire king—covered with a blanket—over one shoulder.
Upon opening the plain, wooden door, Marcus discovered it was lined with steel and as thick and heavy as the door of a bank vault.
The small vestibule inside was enclosed in bulletproof glass he would bet could deflect a sodding heat-seeking missile. Beside a second door’s handle rested a key card swiper and a keypad for entering a security code.
Glad to be out of the sun, he pulled off his mask and gloves and tucked them in his belt. Sarah did the same, then helped Roland remove his.
Ami’s hand slipped into Marcus’s while he peered through the glass. The lobby was modern, minimalist, a collection of grays that boasted a single gathering of comfortable-looking chairs in a U-shape with large, shade-loving plants on side tables for color.
Three guards sat behind a granite-topped security desk across from the door. A dozen more served sentry duty at the elevators and staircase behind the desk. All were heavily armed.
A buzz sounded.
Sarah gripped the doorknob and pushed the glass door open. One of the men seated behind the desk rose and walked around it. Rather than a generic security guard’s uniform, he wore the standard black fatigues of a Second. Tall, thin, with broad shoulders and closely cropped auburn hair, he bore an air of
authority that told Marcus he was no mere security guard. He was one of Chris’s higher-ups.
“Aren’t you going to ask us for ID?” Marcus inquired.
The man grinned. “No need. We’ve been expecting you. And even if we weren’t, I’ve been doing this long enough to recognize immortals when I see them.” He held out his hand. “John Wendleck.”
Marcus shook his hand. “Marcus Grayden.” He motioned to the others. “Roland Warbrook. His wife Sarah. And Amiriska.”
“It’s an honor to meet you all,” he said and waved toward the elevators. “If you’ll come with me ...”
The guards posted on either side of the two elevator doors watched their approach with eyes full of fascination.
Marcus nodded to them.
Smiles broke out all around.
“Honor to meet you, sir,” one offered. Several seconded the notion.
Roland, Marcus noticed, did not receive the same greeting. Most network employees tended to fear him because of the way he had terrorized anyone sent to serve as his Second.
Sarah and Ami both received warm greetings and downright flirty smiles until Roland’s eyes flared amber and he bared his fangs. Many an Adam’s apple bobbed then as the men swallowed with trepidation.
For once, Marcus supported his friend’s show of temper.
The elevator they entered was large, like those one might find in an opera house. According to the buttons inside, there were five subterranean floors.
John pressed S5. “The holding cell is on the same floor as the labs.”
Ami’s hold on Marcus’s hand tightened. Her palm dampened. Her fingers began to tremble.
Frowning, Marcus pried his hand away and wrapped his arm around her. “We can wait in Chris’s office if you’d like,” he murmured, lips pressed to her hair.
John’s perceptive gaze went from one to the other. “Perhaps, Amiriska and Sarah, you would like a tour of the building? You’re both fairly new to the operation.” He smiled. “I’d be happy to show you around, let you see some of what we do here at the network.”
Night Reigns Page 33
