by Karin Tabke
His fingers flexed, snapping the robusto in half.
“I see the thought of them bothers you,” Lazarus said, handing Marcus another cigar. He took it, cut the end and this time took his time lighting it.
Marcus blew deep blue smoke rings as he relaxed back into the overstuffed wingback chair. “They’re pros. Lots of money behind them. Buried as deep as we are.”
“I’m aware. I suspect they are the ones or associated with the organization Rowland cried to after you eliminated Blalock.”
Marcus looked sharply up at his maker. He should have known. Lazarus knew everything.
“Do not think this latest act of defiance will go unanswered. Find out who the new players are and if they are directly connected to Rowland’s plan to thwart The Solution, eliminate them.”
Of course. There was no other way for Joseph Lazarus. Track down the enemy and eliminate them. No gray areas.
Marcus blew several large smoke rings. He watched them intercept the others, breaking the fragile rings. “I’ve run prints and DNA. Nothing.”
“Then you’re going to have to work a little harder on that front and keep tabs on the senator. You are up to the task?” Lazarus asked.
Marcus grunted and blew several more smoke rings. Lazarus never asked, he ordered. “I’m insulted, sir, you imply I cannot multitask.”
“Hardly. Eliminate Rowland’s Hail Mary and we have him back in our pocket.” Lazarus took a long puff of his cigar. “I trust you to see to the matter however you see fit.” Marcus gave a curt nod. “But do it promptly. My patience is at an all-time low. When I give an order, I expect it to be followed.”
Marcus cocked a dark brow and looked pointedly at the man who had created him. Marcus held nothing but the utmost respect for Colonel Lazarus. The colonel was a true patriot. A man Marcus would follow into hell.
“Why did you ignore my request last night to come to me?” the colonel softly asked. He poured a snifter of blood from a crystal decanter sitting on the Louis XIV bombe chest, then stared at Marcus pointedly.
Tension tightened Marcus’s muscles and a faint sense of resentment prickled his skin, making him frown. He wasn’t in the mood for explanations—not after spending last night and most of the current evening trying to rid himself of a woman’s hold—but that was no reason to act like a petulant child.
He stood and stubbed out his cigar. “I was busy.”
“Since when are you too busy to answer me?”
His anger flared. Marcus rolled his shoulders, willing it away. He stalked the richly furnished room. He’d been here before. A long time ago. His commander had places like this all over the country. Lairs, as they were. A place where Lazarus and Marcus and others like them could hole up when they needed to lay low. They all ran together. Looked the same. Felt the same. That’s why, in the last few years, Marcus had declined most of his commander’s offers of respite, opting instead to find his own shelter. Once he’d gained that independence, returning to Lazarus had become harder and harder. To the point Marcus had begun taking on more outside jobs, but lately, Lazarus had been demanding. Insistent that only Marcus carry out the high-risk missions.
“Are you losing interest in The Solution’s cause?”
Marcus paused, wondering briefly if Lazarus was reading his mind. But even Lazarus wouldn’t dare. . . . Marcus shook his head and strode to the window to look out on the glittering lights of Lake Michigan. His legs spread, he clasped his hands behind his back and stood gazing at the ships as they came and went across the choppy water. “No.” And that was the truth. He’d always stand on the side of patriotism despite his conversion from mortal to immortal. Even as a vampire, he was still, and would always remain, a patriot. But a restlessness had infused him recently, a restlessness he couldn’t put his finger on. Maybe some unfinished business from his mortal life?
“Always succinct, aren’t you, Marcus?”
Marcus turned and looked calmly at his commander. “Why expel the energy for more when you can conserve?”
The colonel sipped from the snifter. Marcus’s gaze dropped to the glass, then went back to the colonel. “I could ask you if you’ve lost the thrill of the hunt by taking your sustenance from a crystal glass.”
The colonel smiled, showing off his brilliant fangs. They were long and, Marcus knew, razor-sharp. His maker was of the old world and more powerful than an army of special operatives. His strength and passion for protecting country matched Marcus’.
“Even the most heavily armed human is an unworthy opponent, Marcus. You will come to realize that soon enough. I find my sport other ways.”
Marcus nodded. The Solution was the colonel’s passion, his raison d’être. Marcus understood that. It was his as well. Except for that, he and the colonel were different.
While Lazarus disdained humans, Marcus grieved his lost humanity.
While Lazarus thought as much of humans as the crystal glass he drank from, Marcus hungered not just for human blood but the closeness of a human woman as well.
And while Lazarus commanded those who killed, Marcus was the one who did it. For his beliefs, yes, but also for the chase. The excitement. The exhilaration of knowing that he would ultimately conquer. But even that had lost its luster.
Everything had become too easy for him these last seven years. He was stronger and faster. He could see in the night, smell scents from long distances and even take the form of the victims he had drained dry. He was the six-million-dollar man except that he had no soul. He was the perfect killing machine. Isolated from humanity even while being in the thick of it.
So why did it bother him? Why now, when his human life had been unmarked by relationships?
Was it because he at least had hope then? The possibility, whereas now there was none? Not even when he found a woman who could affect him the way the one last night had?
“What’s eating at you, son?” the colonel asked.
Marcus swiped his hand across his face as he thought of the woman who’d thwarted him. He didn’t speak of her to the colonel. Instinctively he knew the colonel would eliminate her solely for the purpose of no distractions. Life, any life, was expendable to the colonel. Even The Solution’s operatives.
“Are you bothered I had you eliminate Bertie?”
“No,” Marcus answered too quickly. Roberto Martinez, Marcus’s spotter when he’d needed one, and the closest thing to a friend he’d had, was now his ex-spotter. He’d breached the code.
“Roberto became vulnerable because of a woman,” the colonel explained unnecessarily. “He broke a cardinal rule: He shared arterial blood with her. As such he could no longer be trusted and became a threat not only to The Solution’s security but by being a threat to us he was a threat to the nation.”
“I had no issue with your order, sir.”
“Good, because I have another one for you.”
Marcus looked up and the colonel expounded, “As we know, Senator Rowland has made no effort to reinstate The Solution. He has contacted an unknown organization to protect him and his family. Such blatant acts of defiance cannot and will not be tolerated. Not only did he not take my initial threat and subsequent punishment seriously, the senator did not take my second threat seriously, and for that he must feel some pain.”
“What exactly was your threat?”
Lazarus smiled and drained his glass. “His daughter.”
Marcus began to pace. “I don’t kill children.”
“I believe she just turned eighteen.”
Marcus’s scowl deepened. “I don’t kill innocents either.”
“She’s hardly innocent.”
“She isn’t a threat to us.”
The colonel looked pointedly at Marcus. “No, but her father is. He’s shut us down! Do you have any idea the time and effort it took for me to find someone with Rowland’s power and connections? To find the one person who could not only give us the information we needed to eradicate threats to this country but to pay for the execution a
s well?”
Marcus set his jaw remaining silent.
The colonel slammed his snifter down on the sideboard so hard that it shattered to pieces in his hand. Blood seeped through his fingers. Marcus met his icy glare. Rarely did the colonel lose control. “Eliminate her,” Lazarus slowly said, “and if the senator still has issues with my authority, I’ll skin him alive one inch of skin at a time.”
Marcus stood still, digesting his latest kill order. He didn’t like it. On several levels.
“I’m not asking you, Sergeant.”
Marcus brushed past his commanding officer to once again gaze out the window. In all the years they had been together, always on the same side, never once had the colonel asked him to eliminate someone who didn’t deserve it. Until now. It hit Marcus at that exact moment that he was not free. The promises the colonel had made to him that night he’d lain dying in the hills of Afghanistan had been lies. Yes, the colonel had given him life, but he controlled it.
“Sometimes innocents must fall if the greater good is to be achieved, soldier.”
“I understand, sir,” Marcus said softly.
A hard hand clasped him on the shoulder. “Remember, son. What we do is for the greater glory of our country, and, as in everything we do, there is collateral damage.”
Marcus stood rigid, his eyes focused on the far-off blink of a buoy. The red light cautioned. He nodded.
“I do not like the tension between us, Marcus,” the colonel softly said.
Marcus turned to his maker and said, “Nor do I.”
“I’m glad we agree on something tonight. Now, the Young Republicans are throwing a three-thousand-dollar-a-plate fund-raiser for the senator this Friday night in his home district of San Francisco. His family with be in attendance. As will you. I’ll leave the details of Grace Rowland’s departure from this world in your capable hands.”
Marcus fought another scowl. “Perhaps I can take the senator aside and convince him to call off his dogs.”
The colonel shook his head and grinned so malevolently Marcus feared for any person, living or dead. “I don’t care for your melancholy, Marcus.” Lazarus wrapped a linen napkin around his bloody hand. “I created you to save lives. You are a vampire of the highest order. I gave you my blood as did the king’s consort, Aelia. Combined, our blood is among the most powerful of our kind. You serve a purpose. Once you serve your purpose, you will get what you want most. Assuming you still want it.” The colonel tilted his head inquisitively. “Do you? Do you still crave the mortal life you gave up that night seven years ago?”
Marcus kept his face blank and met the colonel’s eyes. Then he answered truthfully. “I don’t know.”
“My son has grown into quite a formidable man.”
Lazarus smiled and turned to the soft feline voice. “He has more of his mother in him than he knows.”
Sophia Rowland laughed. She exited the opulent bedroom at the end of the long hall and sauntered across the room. Joseph had been concerned when Marcus had sensed her. The sergeant was, after all, his greatest creation. He would hate to destroy him so early in the game. The young man exceeded his wildest expectations. If Marcus had known half the power he possessed, Lazarus might have had cause for concern. But Marcus would never challenge his maker. He knew the consequences should he do so. But still, Lazarus was careful. He never assumed anything.
He turned up his smile for the lovely lady. Ah, Sophia Rowland had been a true treasure trove of information. What an incredible find!
While he was not a man who believed in coincidences, Sophia Rowland had made him a believer. Nearly eight years ago he had met the senator’s wife at a memorial for California’s veterans. He was inspired by her husband’s impassioned speech for his country, her fallen heroes and his willingness to defend the American way of life at all costs. A man he could respect. A man Lazarus would need to see his own dreams come to fruition.
It took time, and maneuvering, and more patience than he had ever exacted in his thousand year life, but when he discovered the lovely Sophia’s son, Marcus Cross, was a decorated war hero and her dirty little secret, and at the same time serving in Afghanistan under the command of one Colonel Lazarus, he knew he had to have him, not only as leverage but as part of his greatest achievement: The Solution. He made quick work of the real Lazarus, draining him dry there in the hills of that troubled country, taking his form and setting his sights on the lovely Mrs. Rowland’s son. His opportunity to create Marcus into the ultimate weapon had come sooner than later.
Now, he not only had his prime operative in his pocket, but the mother he didn’t know in his other pocket. He would use them both to steer the senator back on course. Without the senator’s intel and funding, The Solution would crumble and America’s enemies would destroy her. That he would never allow, under any circumstances.
He smiled at the conniving little minx. She knew what he was. She craved his bite almost as much as he craved her blood.
She pouted prettily and ran a manicured fingertip along the mending cuts on his finger. Remnants of blood lingered. She raised his finger to her lips and licked. Her blue eyes burned with desire. “Joseph, why do you drink from a glass when I am warm and willing in the next room?”
He slid his fingertip along the twin bows of her upper lip, then along her full bottom lip. Lowering his lips to hers, he whispered, “Because you like it too much.” He bit her bottom lip, piercing the skin. Sophia gasped but clutched him to her, moaning as he sucked harshly. Instead of pushing her away, he pulled her closer and kissed her deeply. She sought to seduce him with her wiles. But he did not crave the erotic pleasures of the flesh. No, his craving was for power. For control. For total annihilation of his enemies.
When he tired of toying with her, Lazarus shoved her away. Her blue eyes blazed.
“I want the White House, Joseph.”
And Lazarus wanted complete control of The Solution’s destiny. He was tired of being dependent on others for money and resources.
“I want world peace.”
Sophia laughed. “Really? Then what would you do?”
His lips thinned into a grim line. “Enforce it.”
“You can have it all, Joseph, but you can’t do it alone.”
He moved away from her and looked down at the hand he had eviscerated when he’d shattered the snifter. It was healed. He turned slowly and said, “I don’t need you, Sophia.”
“Really?” she purred low. “Do I not deserve some credit where credit is due?” When he did not answer, she moved into him. “I handed you my husband. Gift wrapped! I maneuvered him right into your hands. The instant he has a second thought, I nudge him back into your corner. When he told me he had gone for help, I informed you.”
“That information is useless if I don’t know who I’m up against.”
Her perfectly arched brows knitted. “I have no clue who they are. I have eavesdropped, read his emails, and tried to seduce the information out of him. He has remained stubbornly tight-lipped. Saying only they are so top secret not even the CIA knows about them.”
“Find out who they are.”
She shrugged, trying to play it off. “Who they are is irrelevant. You will defeat them regardless and it will be a moot point.”
“Time is of the essence, my love. You heard my conversation with Marcus. Once your precious daughter disappears, your Family Values candidate will buckle.”
“Do you think, Joseph, I will allow you to harm my daughter?”
“When you refuse to make the ultimate sacrifice, Sophia, you have no say in the matter. So like your daughter, you simply became a means to an end.”
“Really? Do I mean so little to you?”
His eyes narrowed. She looked too confident. “What value are you to me?”
She laughed and moved from him to the picture window, where she stared out, much like her son had done moments before. “If you allow me to handle my husband and leave my daughter out of this, you will have the entire U.
S. military at your disposal.”
He moved swiftly across the room, grabbing her before she finished her sentence. Sophia gasped at his sudden passion.
“You offer more than you can deliver.”
Vehemently she shook her head. “No, I can deliver! We both want the same things, Joseph! Give me eternal life and I will give you the vice president of the United States!” She grabbed his arms. “And we can rule the free world!”
“Do you plan on seducing the vice president of the United States?”
“I won’t have to. I’ll be married to him.” Sophia smiled at his scowl. “Last week GOP presidential front-runner, James Calhoun’s people flew out to see Bill. They offered him the running mate slot. Do you know what that would mean for us, Joseph?”
“Did the senator accept?”
Sophia threw her hands dramatically up in the air. “No! The fool. He said he had more power as a senator, then sent them packing, but I’ll convince him. And once I do—”
“What power does the vice president have that I do not?”
Sophia smiled slyly. “All of the power once the president is dead.”
For the first time in centuries, the flicker of sexual desire intrigued Lazarus. His gaze swept Sophia’s long, lovely neck. Her jugular pulsed. He smelled her wanton quest for power. In that they were equals. He grinned wide. “Ah, Sophia, you are truly diabolical. What will we do with your son once he discovers you? On principal alone he will kill you.”
Sophia pressed her warm, voluptuous body against his. His blood warmed. “I trust you will prevent my demise by his hand. And with that, I will leave my son and his untimely ending to you, Joseph.” She tilted her head back and swept her blonde hair from her neck. “Now, darling, drink from me, my body hungers for you.”
As his hungered for her.
