by Bonnie Dee
“You bring weapons?”
“A few. Picked up a pistol and a few axes and blades.”
Valarian nodded. If they were heading into a group of vampires, bullets wouldn’t be of much use except to slow them down a little. He hadn’t had much need for a sword in several decades, but he and Jacob had continued to spar and practice. They might have to slash their way to Akila, but they were both up to it. As a matter of fact, he was kind of spoiling for it.
“You prepared well. But then you always did before a mission.”
“Because you taught me well,” Jacob replied. “Leah supplied the vehicle and weapons. She’s got quite an arsenal. I paid her, but she says she’ll be expecting a return favor from you sometime when she calls for it.”
“Ah. Leah.” He’d forgotten the vampire he’d had a few weeks of sizzling sex with a couple of decades ago. Thank God, Jacob had remembered she lived in New Jersey. “How is she?”
“Fine. Sends her best. Turn off here. Overton’s stopped.”
Valarian pulled off the road and drove through some scrub brush into a stand of trees that would conceal the Explorer. It was late afternoon. The thick pines shielded the ground from most of the sun’s rays. He pulled up the hood of his jacket and stepped out of the safety of the vehicle with specially tinted windows.
He and Jacob armed themselves with a sword and ax each and then forged through the undergrowth until they reached the gray Mercedes. It was parked at the end of a rutted trail along with a half dozen other vehicles. From there, a footpath led through the woods along the edge of a lake.
“Cameras.” Valarian pointed out the security cams attached to the trees at intervals and aimed at the path. “Wouldn’t be surprised if the woods are mined.”
He led the way, keeping an eye out for trip wires or armed guards. This sanctuary of Overton’s would not be easy to breech. The sound of a large animal rustling through the leaves stopped him in his tracks, and Jacob froze too.
A man armed with an assault rifle strolled past several yards away. He was smoking a cigarette and looked bored. Valarian’s muscles tensed with the powerful desire to attack, but it wouldn’t be a good idea to take out a guard who might be expected to check in periodically. Best to let the man pass—and it was a man, not a vampire, one of Overton’s thralls given the thankless job of patrolling the perimeter of the compound.
The man flicked ash off his cigarette and stomped gracelessly through the woods, pushing branches out of his way and cursing when briars clung to his legs. “Fucking Noonan.” Presumably the man who’d assigned him this detail.
The guard had almost disappeared back into the woods, just a flash of camouflage showing, when some small sound caught his attention and he spun back around. He took the rifle from his shoulder and trudged toward the spot where Jacob and Valarian were hidden.
When his gaze met Valarian’s, the man’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. That brief hesitation before pointing his rifle cost him his life. Valarian leaped toward him, blood rushing through his veins and his constant hunger unleashed. No holding back, no conscience, no moral dilemma—his killing nature was unfettered and free to do what came naturally.
He landed on the man, knocking the rifle from his hands and biting into his throat. Sweet, metallic warmth flood his mouth and poured down his throat. Valarian drank until his need was sated and the man beneath him grew cold and still.
Akila had been riveted to the images on the TV for the past few hours as every station broadcast the breaking news about Candidate Dale Overton and multi-billionaire Valarian Kaspan. The footage of the men fighting was shown over and over from every possible angle that had been covered by a camera.
For the hundredth time, she watched Jacob tackle Overton and the vampire throw him off. Then Overton turned, snarling and revealing fangs. There the image froze while the reporters and their expert guests discussed every possible theory other than vampirism that they could come up with. She flipped channels and caught the clash between Valarian and the vampire bodyguard, two men with obvious fangs, bashing at each other with super strength. The pundits on that channel didn’t even try to deny the possibility of vampires. Instead, they discussed what accepting the reality of a paranormal element would mean to society and tried to ascertain how large of a segment of the population might actually be vampires.
“A witch-hunt will be forthcoming,” Akila muttered as she changed the channel again.
This station showed the dramatic footage of the vampire conflagration, leaving a steaming, sooty mess on the pavement. It was reported that roadblocks were going up as police and the sheriff’s department scrambled to find either Overton or Kaspan. The anchorman interviewed a lawyer, who pointed out that neither man had actually committed a crime to be arrested for. What were the legal ramifications of such an unprecedented case? Could a person be put behind bars merely for being a vampire?
Akila stood and forced herself to put down the remote, although she kept the TV on in case there were any updates. She prayed Valarian and Jacob were safe and on their way to help her. At least now she knew they were aware Overton had her, but finding where he’d hidden her might not be so easy. She couldn’t count on being rescued.
For two hours she’d done nothing but stare at the stupid TV set. She had to take some sort of action. She couldn’t wait here for Overton to decide she was more of a liability than a prize and kill her. Hell, he could make a call and have one of his henchmen in here disposing of her any second now. She’d armed herself with a roughly pointed stick of wood, but if there were several vampires, she could hardly fend them off with that.
Frustrated by her helplessness, she tried to think of all the movies she’d ever seen and how the heroine escaped from a seemingly inescapable prison. According to Valarian, real vampires weren’t affected by garlic, crosses, religious incantations or holy water. But the holy water gave her an idea of a way she might at least temporarily disable anyone who came through the door long enough for her to run past them.
Electrocution would slow down even a vampire, wouldn’t it?
Akila went to the bathroom, emptied bath products from a decorative basket and began to fill the basket with water from the tub. She carried the leaking container to the door of her cell and tossed it onto the floor then went to fill another.
After she’d created a puddle in front of the door, bordered by rolled-up towels to give it shape, she stripped the cord from one of the table lamps until the wires were exposed, praying it would create a charge when she threw it into the puddle. Then she settled down to wait for one of her jailers. They’d been as prompt as the changing of the guards at Buckingham Palace about bringing her meals. Adrenaline surged through her veins and knotted her muscles. Her plan was weak, but she had to try something, no matter how crazy, to at least try to escape.
She tensed at the sound of approaching footsteps and the click of the lock. Then the door swung open and the bald guard walked through the door, followed by a woman bearing a tray. In the half second it took for them to note the condition of the floor and look puzzled, Akila hurled the plugged-in lamp. It hit the server, knocking the tray from her hands, and then crashed to the floor, creating not even a spark in the shallow pool of water.
Akila ran toward the door, hoping to take advantage of the moment of confusion to slip out. But the balding man leaped in front of her, growling and fangs on display. He caught her by the throat, lifted her off her feet and tossed her across the room. Her back hit the arm of the sofa and her head connected with the edge of the coffee table. Pain and terror lanced through her before everything went dark.
Chapter Sixteen
The building, nestled on a pine-covered bluff overlooking a valley filled with more pines, could have been a hunting lodge. The rustic wood exterior didn’t hide the fact that it was a retreat for the wealthy and elite—a private getaway for vampires, who probably did do some hunting, although not here in the woods. There was no parking lot for vehicles, a
s they were stationed some distance away and the only approach to the place was on foot.
Jacob and Valarian were approaching on foot, too, but not by the established pathway. After taking out one member of the patrol team, they had a radio to keep them apprised of what was going on. When someone called for Burton to check in, Valarian replied with a grunted “all clear” that seemed to satisfy the command post.
They squatted in the brush, assessing the lodge’s points of entry while Jacob scanned the building with the thermal detector. Rainbow-colored figures were everywhere and Valarian doubted he and Jacob would be able to infiltrate undetected. Before this was over, they’d probably have to fight their way through a small army of vampires. He was spoiling for battle and if he hadn’t been worried about Akila’s safety, would’ve enjoyed the chance for a bit of violence after living in a self-imposed cage for so long.
He leaned to whisper to Jacob. “We’ll go in here—” he tapped the scanner “—take out these two, then sweep our way through the place, killing them all.” The tactic had worked well for them during their Nazi-hunting days, but of course that prey had been human and therefore easier. Now they’d be up against superior strength and advanced home-invasion technology. “One by one, just like the old days.”
Jacob nodded, tucked away the scanner and drew a two-foot blade from the sheath on his belt.
Valarian rested a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll get her. Don’t worry.”
“I’m not. I’ve never known you not to get the job done.” Jacob met his gaze. “And I know you care about her as much as I do, so don’t you worry. Now, fight safe and don’t take too many chances.” He put his free arm around Valarian and gave him a hard, one-armed hug before heading off, leaving the tall ferns swaying behind him.
They darted around the side of the building, taking cover behind trees or shrubs. There were more cameras perched like birds on branches at intervals, and Valarian could only hope they’d slip through the grid unnoticed. Chances were slim, but so were their options.
Jacob reached the side door they’d chosen. A mounted camera was trained on the entrance. Jacob sprayed the lens with black paint he’d brought along for that purpose. If whoever monitored the cameras hadn’t been focused on that particular screen for a few seconds, they might make it through. Unfortunately, their entire plan revolved around mights and maybes.
Valarian tested the door handle. Naturally it was locked. He pressed the intercom button and a second later a female voice demanded his identity.
“Burton.” He used the name of the dead guard.
“What do you need?” The woman sounded annoyed but not overly suspicious.
“Just open the fuck up,” Valarian growled. The last thing he wanted was to have to break down the door and set off an alarm system. With the tiniest bit of luck, they could gain entry and then eliminate the few guards in proximity.
He pulled the hood of his jacket closer around his face and then the door finally opened. Before the woman could open her mouth to ask more questions, Valarian was through the door, pushing her back and ripping at her throat. Fangs were sometimes easier than using a weapon.
But his opponent had super strength of her own. She twisted from his grip and started to run. Jacob sliced through the vampire’s neck, silencing her before she could scream.
Drawn by the sounds of the scuffle, another vampire rushed into the room with unnatural speed. Valarian intercepted him, taking advantage of momentum to catch him around the waist and send him spinning through the air. Valarian leaped on top of his opponent, grabbed his head and twisted it like a bottle cap. His neck gave a satisfying snap, but just to be certain the man was really dead, Valarian tore the head from the body.
He rose, drenched in blood, and hurried after Jacob, who was already forging ahead into the next room.
One by one. And when we’re finished there won’t be a vampire left standing.
The thermal scanner had showed more than one person in this area of the building. Jacob checked the screen again and saw more bodies amassing.
“Five headed this direction,” he warned Valarian, slipping the device back into his pocket and lifting his blade. “Evade or engage?”
“Evade.” Valarian led the way through another room, moving much faster than Jacob possibly could.
They’d already discussed their strategy for what to do once inside the building. Divide and search independently so if either of them was caught, the other might still have a chance to save Akila. Kill anyone that crossed their path, if it could be done quietly.
Valarian was soon out of sight. Jacob heard approaching footsteps and, rather than try to outrace them, flattened against the shadowed wall behind a tall potted tree. It wasn’t much shelter, but if they weren’t searching the room for an intruder, the group might move past without seeing him.
“He’s dead no matter what. Whether it’s us or some of the others,” an angry voice declared. “Kaspan has exposed us all to danger and persecution. He will suffer for it.”
Jacob watched the cluster of people who entered the room—two women, three men, all vampires, or so he guessed. There might be a thrall or two among them, but it was safer to assume they had the supernatural strength of vampires. And from the way they were chatting, it seemed they were not aware of the intruders in their midst.
“The girl and her spawn should be killed. I said this was a bad idea from the beginning.” A blonde woman crossed the room to a sideboard and chose a bottle and glass. She poured a shot of amber liquid and tossed it back before pointing at one of the others with the empty glass clutched in her hand. “If Overton hadn’t taken his bitch, Kaspan wouldn’t have exposed him. But since it’s done, she should be killed. There’s no point at all in keeping her alive.”
“He’s determined he can use the child.” One of the men dropped onto a chair. “He won’t listen to reason. Meanwhile, Kaspan’s out for blood and he’ll be after all of us next.”
“This is fucked. It’s not what I signed up for.” Another man leaned against the back of the chair, resting his forehead on his folded arms. “A simple coup, a quiet, subtle infiltration of government. That’s what Overton promised us. Instead it’s a big, bloody mess.”
“Speaking of which. I’m starving,” the other woman said. “Let’s call up whatever’s on tap in the wine cellar.”
Human prisoners in the basement. Jacob wasn’t surprised. It was common for vamps who still drank straight from the source to keep living victims on hand, especially in an out-of-the-way spot like this where they couldn’t hunt for fresh blood.
The blonde slammed her glass on the sideboard and turned to face the others. “This is stupid. He’s had her for several days and hasn’t even tested to see if she’s pregnant. Special vampire hybrid, my ass. If Overton can’t see reason, the rest of us will do it for him. We should’ve killed her before he returned.”
The black-haired man lifted his head from his arms and straightened. “We can still do it. There’s one of him and five of us. Likely more, because I doubt all of his people are backing this play. We could go up there and take care of her right now.”
“I’m in. She’s supposed to be descended from some god, so let’s see if her blood tastes special.” The hungry woman licked her lips and grinned. Her fangs gleamed white against scarlet-painted lips.
Jacob calculated the odds. Even with the element of surprise, he was outmatched. As much as he wanted to descend on them, howling like a dervish and slashing with his blade, he couldn’t help Akila that way. He also had a few grenades he’d gotten from Leah. They nestled against his leg, deep in his pocket. One of them would eliminate this roomful of vampires. But as long as Akila’s fate was uncertain, he didn’t want to stir up a hornet’s nest. Better to wait and watch and learn all he could.
He held his breath and remained motionless, peering through the branches of the potted palm.
Akila rose from darkness into light like a surfacing swimmer. She heard raised v
oices before she opened her eyes, and decided to pretend to be unconscious a little longer.
“Moron. You couldn’t look after one little girl for a few hours without screwing up. You might’ve killed her.”
“Maybe I should have. And I’m not the only one who says so.” A sullen voice answered the first one, which she recognized as Dale Overton.
“Are you questioning me?”
“Yeah. I am. Considering what happened today, I’d say you’re the one that screwed up. You pissed off Kaspan and now we all have to pay for it.”
The blank spots in her memory filled in like points connected on an Etch A Sketch. Magic baby. Kidnapped. Stupid escape plan. Flying across the room. She must have hit her head and, while she was unconscious, someone had moved her to the bed.
“Listen to me,” Overton hissed. “The child this woman carries may be our downfall, but it may be the key to everything. I’m not about to destroy something so potentially valuable, not if I can use it instead. If later the kid proves to be a problem rather than an asset, then I’ll eliminate him.”
Akila was already plenty on edge, but his casual dismissal of a human life—her potential child’s life—sent a fresh wave of horror through her. The futility of her escape attempt convinced her there was no way she could get out of this prison except perhaps by ingratiating herself to Overton, who seemed determined to keep her alive for now.
She pushed herself to a sitting position, holding her throbbing head. There was a knot on her scalp in back where she’d banged it on the coffee table.
“Miss Massri, you’re awake.” Overton approached the bed, and Akila forced herself not to shrink away. “May I call you Akila? And you must call me Dale. We’re going to be together for quite some time. No need to be so formal.”
“Certainly, Dale.” She forced a small smile and nodded—a mistake as it sent her head spinning.
“I understand you’ve been a nuisance while I was gone. You made quite a mess for someone else to clean up.”
