“Oh, I knew what you meant. Er, let me see. Uh, Sid, could you reach inside the glove box? There’s a vial in there.”
She retrieved the bottle of pills and twisted off the lid. “How’s this going to help?” She started to put one in Smoke’s open mouth.
“No, no, no,” Manson said in an elderly voice. “Hand it to me.”
She did.
The supervitamin was a large green gel pill with a glow to it. Manson held it between his forefinger and thumb. He eyeballed it, took a scalpel, and sliced it open. He squeezed out the contents into the wound.
“Woo!” Eyes wide, Smoke looked at Sid. “That’s much better!”
“These vitamins have a powerful regenerating effect when applied directly to wounds.” Manson leaned over the gap he had pulled open in Smoke’s shoulder. “Heh, the muscle and tissue mends. You’re fortunate the cut was so clean.” He finished sewing up the wound. “Don’t move it for a few hours. It should be much better by then, but there are no guarantees.”
Smoke nodded.
“Now show me your cracked rib, and that hand,” Manson said to Sid, reaching for the vial of pills.
“How’d you know the vitamins had that application?” Mal said. “Even I didn’t know that.”
“Because I created them, that’s why.”
The cabin quieted while Manson squirted the contents of two pills into a syringe and shot it into her rib and hand. At first it hurt like hell, but then it felt all better.
“Oh, I didn’t create them for the likes of you. I created them for when the shifters make the initial transformation. It helps with the cloning process, too.” Manson wiped down the tools and placed them back in the medical kit. “They typically have a disastrous effect on humans. I marvel that you can use them, but it must be the shifter blood in you.”
Sid got that sinking feeling again. She spoke up. “I’ve been curious where all this equipment comes from. If the FBI isn’t supplying it, then who is?”
Mal held up a finger. “I’ve been under the impression it was the people who ran the Black Slate. They’re the ones who contacted me. It was easy enough to believe it was from a covert military operation.”
Manson chuckled like an old man who was the only one with the answer to the puzzle. “I hate to use the word ‘gullible,’ because it’s not entirely true. Yes, a government entity is behind these gifts you receive. But those factions are run by powers and principalities that are difficult to understand. There’s good within their ranks, but there’s a dark force, too. The Drake runs the evil faction. They use the clones to infiltrate the government ranks. They’re trying to out the Church of Nigil.”
Sid leaned forward. “The Church of Nigil?”
“The shifters have been around since ancient times. I’m certain you’ve figured out that much.” Manson scooted down his seat and pushed down his armrest. He turned the cabin light off. “They’ve been a threat on and off throughout all history. In the Dark Ages, the shifters—typically a bunch of crude and savage individuals who worked alone—began working with one another. That’s when some of the earliest knights were formed by a warrior named Nigil. He was a devout man, a minister of the faith. He worked quietly and diligently behind the scenes. To this day, there are many unknown followers of the Church of Nigil. They keep the forces of evil at bay. However, with the help of the clones, the Drake, the shifters, and the likes of Kane are having these good members of the old guard eliminated. It’s a very quiet but devastating extraction.” He hitched his thumb over his shoulder. “They’re the ones behind the Black Slate, the Church of Nigil, but now the Drake has them on the run. It’s a nasty business.”
“I’ve never heard of this church,” Mal said.
“They are careful to wipe out all traces of their existence, but they walk like angels among us—not so much for my benefit but for yours.”
“You say they’re knights. Do they fight?” Smoke asked.
“They fight with thought, not fists.”
Sid soaked in her thoughts. The answer to every mystery was another mystery. She leaned back and gazed at the stars in the sky. I guess I’ll never have the answers to everything. Not in this lifetime I won’t. I’ll just march forward on faith.
Smoke took her by the hand and pulled her into the car. “It’s time to take out the clones.”
CHAPTER 22
“They’ll be expecting A.V. and Angi back at the Drake compound.” Vormus stood beside the containers with a bored look on his face. “I suggest you execute your plan soon.”
Sid, Smoke, and Mal were standing around the hood of Mal’s SUV, going over the plan with Manson. The boy shifter had drawn them a map, and he said he had told them everything he could think of about the compound.
Drake Headquarters was nestled in the woods. The concrete building was built like a bunker. The windows were small on the three levels of flooring. The security was tight. There was a checkpoint for all traffic going in and coming out. A barbed-wire fence secured at least a mile-wide perimeter.
“You have the pea coats, deaders, and shifters,” Manson said, rubbing his nose. “They don’t take any chances with the Pyramid. With me gone, they’re going to be a little more paranoid from now on.”
“What about electronic security? Cameras, pass codes, key fobs, magnetic locks?” Sid asked as she pressed new bullets into her clips.
“Huh, well, needless to say, the Drake uses plenty of technology, but they’re pretty old fashioned about this place. They don’t want a digital record on their dealings. Needless to say, they don’t want any strangers prowling about. If someone strange shows up, they kill them. Or clone them. They don’t want to be hacked, either. Sure, they entertain the elites with recordings of their fights and battles, but that doesn’t happen at this location. It’s top secret.”
“But they have to run power to the pyramid server, don’t they?” Smoke asked. Automatic pistols hung on his hips. Machine guns were strapped to his back. He taped two weapons’ magazines together with duct tape.
“The server does have power. It’s enough power to run a small city. It’s in the basement, deep, where it’s cool. It’s in a glass vault. Shatterproof stuff. I’m not even sure if a bomb could take it out.” Manson shrugged. “Destroying it won’t be easy. Just getting down there will be a feat in itself.”
Smoke said to Sid, “Sounds like a job for James Bond.”
“James who?” Vormus asked.
“It sure doesn’t sound like we can go blasting through there,” she said. Based off what Manson had told her, she didn’t like the odds. But she felt compelled to do it. She needed to find her sister and niece. She couldn’t help but think something bad was about to happen. “How confident are you that Kane now resides at this compound?”
“Oh, he’s there. He doesn’t have anywhere else to be at the moment.”
“How can you be so sure?”
Manson shrugged. “I suppose I could be wrong, but are we going after Kane or the server? We have to take down one thing at a time.”
“I concur with Manson,” Vormus said. “I believe Kane is there hiding like the rat he is. He knows you have to come after him if he doesn’t haul you in there himself. He just wants the advantage. The shifters who serve him want to redeem themselves. Now’s the time to take him.”
Typing on his laptop, Mal said, “Let’s not forget we need to find my Asia. She’s in there too, and we don’t need any collateral damage. I won’t have any part of that. I have an idea though.”
“What is it?”
“Servers need to stay cool. If we cut the power to its ventilation systems, won’t the server shut down?”
Manson blew a gum bubble until it popped. “Perhaps. It runs hot, but there will be back-up generators. Those will need to go down too. Everything tied to the server will have plenty of security. I didn’t have a hand in those systems. I just handle the clone programming. Also, just because the server is shut down doesn’t mean the cadavers will waken.”
“You speak like they are dead,” Mal said, his voice torn with emotion.
“Well, they’re in a suspended state. It’s more like a coma one never wakes up from. Many die during the process.”
“John, can I have a word with you?” Sid asked.
Her husband moved out of everyone else’s earshot with her.
“I’m not very comfortable with this, and I don’t trust either of them. It sounds like we’re about to walk into a bigger net.”
“I guess we won’t know for sure until we get there, but I’d rather roll in than wait and see. Let me try to steer this thing, and we’ll see if they try to dissuade us.”
“You just want to play with those weapons.”
“I want to waste shifters.” He slapped a magazine into his rifle and slung the weapon over his back. “I’m not buying that they can’t be killed. Everything can be killed. We just need to find a quicker way to do that. We’ll figure it out.”
Sid put her hands on his face, went up on tiptoes, and kissed him. “Okay, I’ll follow your lead. If I can’t trust you, I can’t trust anybody. How’s the shoulder?”
“Good enough to support my trigger finger.” He kissed her back. “How’s the rib and hand?”
“Good enough to do this.” She kissed him soundly, putting her body into it.
When they’d made their way back to the others, Smoke laid out his plan. “Operation Trojan Horse.”
“Sounds original,” Vormus said.
Smoke pointed to the truck and the container with the prisoners in it. “They’re expecting the truck, so we’ll send them the truck. All we have to do is convince Wolf Man and Night Bird to drive.”
“That’ll never happen,” Vormus said. “They won’t willingly betray Kane. He has them wrapped around his finger.”
“I can help with that.” Manson’s small body grew. The seams of his suit burst.
Everyone took a step back.
Transforming before their eyes, Manson became the spitting image of A.V. He said, “I’m going to need some bigger clothes.”
Smoke slapped him on the shoulder. “And I’m going to need to know exactly where those generators are.”
CHAPTER 23
Sid rode in the cab of the container truck. Manson, now disguised as A.V., drove. He struggled with shifting gears. He worked the long shift with his hairy, clawed fingers like an amateur. He’d stalled at two stoplights already. Sid’s nerves were wearing thin.
“Why don’t you let me drive?” she said. “You’re doing horrible.”
“No, I always liked driving. I used to do a lot more of it in the good old days. Those Model Ts were slow but fun. I could get away with it back then when I was a kid. No one cared how old you were. Lots of kids drove back then, those whose parents could afford to let them drive their expensive machines. Now I look too young, and you have to have a license to do just about everything but pee.” The light turned green. He popped the clutch and pushed the accelerator, and the big truck rumbled forward. Bouncing in his seat, he said, “See, I’m getting better.”
“It looks to me like you can take on whatever form you want. You don’t have to stay a kid. So what are you, a doppelganger like Reginald?”
“Eh, sort of. Old Reggie is a clever bird. Very powerful. Almost as powerful as Kane himself. I’m all boy in the day, but I can change form once night falls. But let’s keep that between us. The others don’t know I can do it. Hee hee! I’m a kid. I’m supposed to be sneaky.”
“Why only at night?”
“Evil thrives in the darkness, I suppose. It’s a mystic thing. Just imagine where we would be without the light. Did you know more than eighty percent of all crimes are committed at night?”
“Yeah, I read that once.”
Manson looked right at her. “Really?”
“No. Stop looking at me. Just keep your eyes on the road.”
“You don’t like this face, do you.”
“I hate that face.” Sid pushed back into her seat and set her stare on the road.
“The first experience with a shifter leaves a deep impression. It taints you. No experience with the supernatural is unforgettable. In your case, I’d say temptation overcame you.” The truck banged over some potholes. “The seductive nature. The raw power. It sucks you in. There is a promise of great pleasure. Very few can resist it.”
Sid’s throat tightened. She remembered the encounter with A.V. like it was yesterday. The temptation was etched in her mind forever. A craving had overcome her. She’d wanted to succumb. Embrace it. Smoke’s words had brought her to her senses. Pancakes and butterflies. She smiled.
“What?” Manson asked.
“Nothing. Question. I shot A.V. with silver bullets. He clearly feared them. How come it didn’t kill him?”
“Oh, that’s all stuff from your picture shows. Sure, silver is the weakness in his case. Every shifter has one. But once they removed the bullet, he was revived. Heh, we are truly hard to kill.”
“So does Vormus have a weakness for wooden stakes and crucifixes?”
Manson lifted his shoulders. “Maybe. It’s different for everyone. I don’t think they even know their own weakness. That’s why they’re so cocky. But it trips them up sometimes. One shifter had a severe allergy to pewter. She was killed by a fork and a butter knife. Heh. That was in the eighteenth century. They wore really big hats back then.”
“I’m surprised you’re willing to ride right into the lion’s den, Manson.”
“You aren’t surprised. You’re suspicious, and I don’t fault you. Well, I’m taking a new side.” His voice became cryptic. “The signs abound. The sky falls. The walls close in. The end is near.”
Goose bumps rose on her arms even with the second skin on. She sat in the quiet for the rest of the ride, going through the game plan.
Now’s not the time to worry about what he is or isn’t going to do. Just focus on what you need to do, Sid.
Manson drove the truck onto a private road that split from the highway. A green sign read Hillcrest Road. Also, a Drake Properties sign was posted at the split, along with several notable “No Trespassing” and “Private Property” signs. The winding road snaked up into the hills for miles. Trees of all sorts lined both sides. Leaves bent on the branches as the truck rolled by. The road flattened out at the top. They passed a mausoleum on the right. The building was surrounded by hundreds of grave markers in an overgrown field. The mausoleum itself looked to be big enough to hold at least a dozen bodies inside the belly of its sandstone framework. A monolith of stone sat facing the moonlight. Two urns sat on the ledges that confined the steps leading up to the iron door of the mausoleum. Four thick stone pillars held up the front of the roof.
At least I don’t see any gargoyles.
Ahead were the guard shack and the perimeter fence. The fencing was ten feet high. The top was covered in coils of barbed wire. Behind it was a stone building three stories tall with small windows, just as Manson had described. There were parking places outside, and a ramp led below the building. Dim lights illuminated some of the windows.
Two men in pea coats stepped out of the guard shack and greeted them with M-16s.
Manson brought the truck to a stop. “I’ll do the talking.”
The guards flanked the passenger and driver’s-side doors. A third man stepped out from behind the shack. A giant of a man over eight feet tall. His hair stood up on top of his head in patches. He wore a beige, Carhartt-like work suit.
Lance!
CHAPTER 24
The huge teenager stood between the truck and the gate. He stooped, staring right at the windshield, small eyes squinting.
Manson rolled down his window.
The guard climbed up on the semi-truck’s doorstep. His eyes popped open when he met Manson’s in A.V. form.
“Special delivery,” Manson said. “And don’t ever get in my face again.”
The flat-nosed guard held his ground. “Who’s the girl? I don’t reco
gnize her.”
“She’s the delivery, fool!” Manson shoved the man off the side of his truck. The guard fell on the ground, popped up, and with a nasty glance over his shoulder at Manson, he headed over to Lance.
Manson said to Sid, “You seem to recognize that big fella. Got a name?”
“Lance. We crossed with him a little ways back at Titus Tolliver’s mortuary. I’m a bit surprised he’s here. He’s a loner.”
“A shifter that big has nowhere else to go. Hmm, I wonder if he knows A.V.”
Lance approached.
“I guess we’re about to find out.” Sid put on a long face. Lance’s big head almost filled the window. His little eyes got big. “You! Why isn’t she secured?”
“She’s not going anywhere, Lance. Her loved one is hostage in the back.”
“They should both be in there,” Lance said. “Kane’s not going to like this. Where’s the bird lady?”
Manson leaned toward the windshield and glanced up in the sky. “I’m sure she’ll be landing any moment now, if she hasn’t already. Why, do you still have a thing for her?”
Lance gaped. “What thing?”
“Oh, people talk. They say you give the little lady a lot of leers. I can’t blame you. She’s a fine wine even to the likes of myself, though a little moody.”
“I don’t remember you being so talky,” Lance said. He stuck his entire head through the window. Sid crammed into the back of her seat. Lance sniffed. “Anyone back in there?”
“The truck cab? Uh, no, you can see for yourself.” Manson popped his door open.
“Forget it.” Lance looked at Sid. “You burnt my hair.”
“I don’t care.”
“You will.” Lance walked away. He snatched a radio from one of the guards. The radio looked like a credit card in his big hand. He said something. A few seconds later, he gave a nod and then dropped the radio on the ground. Using his hand like a grizzly bear’s paw, he grabbed the heavy gate by the chain-link fencing and walked it open, waving the truck through.
The Supernatural Bounty Hunter Files Collector's Set: Books 1-10: Urban Fantasy Shifter Series Page 99
