Dom, however, has not brought me here to admire his expensive landscaping.
He’s facing a massive wall behind his desk. Stretching forty, maybe fifty feet high, it’s adorned with dozens of cubbyholes crammed with books, jars, and vials. A mechanical lift sits nearby, like the type they use in a big store to pull stock down from the top shelves.
“Look, Dom, if I knew where this Vitalysm was, I’d give it back to you. But I didn’t actually eat it. Promise.”
“That is a lie.” His bald head gleams from the light shimmering through the windows. “Just like your allyship for the past year has been.”
“I don’t remember anything.”
“That, however, is the truth.” His fingers trace over the volumes on the shelf. “And that is how I know that you are our first successful test subject.” He shrugs. “And I suppose Carter is the second.”
Dom finds the book he’s looking for and pulls it down from a shelf. It ejects a plume of dust when he sets it on the desk. The spine reads Properties of Rare and Exotic Creatures.
“What are you looking for?”
Dom taps the page and begins to read. “In 1973, a woman was pronounced dead in her home, bludgeoned to death by an unknown intruder. Hospital records confirmed this as a matter of record. Her body was placed in the morgue and scheduled for autopsy. But she was spotted, later that day, walking past a local convenience store.”
“Sounds like a bad conspiracy show on cable TV.”
“Her body was later found outside the house of a local electrician. A search of the premises revealed the murder weapon—a bloodied mallet—in his company-issued toolbox.”
“So she wasn’t actually dead,” I say. “And instead of going to the cops, she took matters into her own hands and confronted her attacker. But he finished the job.”
“No.” Dom closes the book. “She was dead the first time. She came back to life and led police to her killer.”
“If you say so.”
“You have to be a little curious regarding the truth of the matter,” Dom says.
I shouldn’t say it, but I can’t help myself. “Not really.”
The billionaire seems unperturbed. “It’s always refreshing speaking with you.”
“I’m known for my sparkling conversational wit.”
“Once you reach a certain level of success, no one dares to tell you what’s on their mind.” Dom returns the book to his wall of ingredients and experiments. “You forget what disrespect is.”
“Glad I can be of service.”
“I built a fortune fueled by that disrespect.” He lets out a long breath. “Sometimes it’s hard to rekindle the motivation.”
“Think your motivation is just fine, judging by your house.”
“Truth is a difficult animal to wrangle,” Dom says. “You must have the right stomach to do whatever it takes to find it.” He reaches up on the shelf, behind some of the books, and pulls out an urn. “This is the woman I just told you about.”
“That’s a weird thing to collect.”
“I don’t have her remains for my collection.” There’s a pause as he gazes at the plain black urn. “I have them because she was my mother.”
Now I feel like an asshole. Even if he is a psycho kidnapping murderer. “I didn’t know.”
“I leave that out of the press releases.” Dom puts the urn back on the shelf. “In any event, it sparked a lifelong obsession: how did she come back from the dead?”
“And?”
“I studied her ashes. My own DNA. Was she some sort of creature? Was her biology different?” He stares at the urn like he’s asking it the questions. Then he shakes his head. “No. It was a creature acting upon her. Bringing her temporarily back to life.”
“Must be a pretty special creature.”
He finally turns away from the towering shelves to look at me. “Indeed. A creature like yourself.”
“If I could bring people back to life, you think I’d be here in this shithole with you?”
“I think it’s exactly where you’d be,” Dom says, that terrifying smile returning. “And exactly why you accepted my proposal a year ago.”
“Yeah, just couldn’t resist your charms.”
“Oh, you didn’t want to help me.” The smile remains. “You wanted to stop me. But you also wanted to find out what you really were just as badly as I did.”
“If I’m immortal, then why would I need your little serum to survive this morning?”
He laughs, like my statement is completely absurd. “A Soulwalker is not immortal.”
“Then what am I?”
“A new world is coming.” His eyes narrow, and the beatific guru façade gives way into a maniacal crazed stare. “I will be its leader. And you will be my unknown secret weapon, helping from the shadows.”
I gotta get away from this mansion.
Him. Carter.
This entire damn dumpster fire.
But I manage to croak out a weak, “Indeed.”
Dom opens a desk drawer and pulls out a frighteningly large needle. “The last Soulwalker. Truly magnificent. It is a shame you won’t remember all the changes you’ve written upon this world.”
I back away.
His eyes grow wide.
Can’t imagine between the bloody shoulder bandage and ripped up, sweaty catsuit that I look that great.
But he’s not reacting to me.
He’s looking beyond me, out the infinity-pool window, that’s shattering into a million pieces as gunshots ricochet through the office.
Thirteen
Broken glass pelts my back as I hit the cold hardwood. Gunshots pepper the tall shelves, shattering vials and jars. The shots boom off the office’s high ceiling. Deep within the belly of the vast estate, I hear Dom Rillo’s lackeys springing to action.
A firm hand touches my good shoulder. I roll over and swing. Javy Diaz catches my punch, amusement dancing in his steel-blue eyes.
There’s no long reunion. He just says, “We gotta get out of here.”
I scan the glass-strewn office for Dom. The mad billionaire scientist is leaning against the towering shelves, clutching a bloodied arm that caught a stray bullet. He scrambles beneath the desk when he sees Javy and I looking at him.
“What about this prick?”
Javier takes a step toward the billionaire, then reconsiders as he listens to the shouting reinforcements coming our way. “No time.”
With any luck, Carter will still be hungry when he finds Dom.
I sprint behind him into the open, endlessly green field.
The mansion’s gate is forever away down the hill. “Please tell me that getting away on foot isn’t the plan.”
Javy pulls up his cell phone and points to his right. “Garage is a couple hundred feet around the corner.”
“That where you parked?”
“I couldn’t exactly come up the driveway, Tess.”
“Then how’d you get in?” We veer onto a terracotta-red pathway snaking through the grass.
“I had something on one of the guards. Been keeping it in my back pocket to use when I needed it.” The brick pathway segues into a sort of patio, as the garage looms up ahead. “Today was the day.”
“Blackmail. I like it.” As we get closer, I realize that garage is a misnomer. Given its size, it would be better described as a house of cars. “So what’s the plan?”
“Find a vehicle.”
“And after that?”
We reach the driveway, which is no doubt some artisanal stone imported from the quarries of a European village thousands of miles away. Javier races past a phalanx of black SUVs, but I stop.
“What, none of these are good enough for you?”
“My guy on the inside stashed something in there.” Javy yanks a Sig P365 from an ankle holster and tosses it over to me. “Wait here.”
With that non-explanation, he runs toward the garage, leaving me alone with my paranoid thoughts. Security’s shouts get closer and
closer, squeezing in like a pincer.
I hunker down behind the SUV’s wheel well and try to make myself as small a target as possible. Muscle memory finds me checking the Sig’s magazine, even though I know it’s full by the gun’s weight.
My eyes confirm what my hands already know. I slide the magazine back in with a satisfying click and try to steady my breathing.
Three seconds in, three seconds out.
To my surprise, it works.
Until gunfire erupts from the balcony right above me. Because of course this car palace would have a balcony.
I pop out from cover. The sun is glaring. I can only see the faintest outline of a shadow, but it’s enough. I aim and squeeze off two shots and he crumples. In the SUV’s side mirror, I spot a guy in a suit rounding the corner from the direction of Dom’s office.
I snap the sights to his chest and pull the trigger.
The man unleashes a spine-crunching yell. But he takes the bullet in stride.
That’s when I realize it’s not just any man.
It’s Carter Price, bent on vengeance. Blood cakes his lips from his interrupted meal of human flesh. The bullet wards from this morning might have worn off, but whatever Vitalysm he ingested from biting me—along with those pills he was popping like candy in the study—is keeping him upright.
I retreat to the very last SUV in the chain, firing behind me.
Carter is panting like a rabid beast, but he won’t go down.
I press myself against the bumper. I check the magazine. Two rounds left.
He calls out, “Not eager for a rematch?”
I stare at the closed garage doors, hoping that they’ll open. Or Javy will burst through in a convertible and I can hop in the back as he tears ass away from this wretched place.
The doors stay shut.
“Nothing to say, Tess?”
“Still trying to follow Rule Number One.”
Carter’s voice tightens. “I’m going to enjoy tearing you to pieces.”
“Don’t think Dom’s gonna like that.” There’s a pool-sized fountain in the middle of the driveway. It has a massive statue of none other than Dom Rillo in the middle. Any rich asshole needs one, I guess. Options flash through my mind, none of them good.
Gunfire explodes in the garage. I aim the pistol toward the sound, but it’s all inside, behind closed doors. There’s nothing I can do out here.
Besides, I have my own problem to deal with.
“You’re nothing special.”
“Is that jealousy, Carter?” Right now, stalling seems like the best strategy I have.
Just gotta survive until Javy comes back.
“Not jealousy.” Something tings against the pavement nearby. It’s a blood-soaked bullet.
Another one joins it a second later.
The crazy bastard is pulling them out with his bare hands and tossing them over the row of SUVs at me.
“You’ll never be anything to Mr. Rillo.”
“That’s okay. I never wanted to be a house pet, anyway.”
A guttural snarl erupts. I peek out from the bumper and see two-hundred pounds of lean, magic-serum infused vampire charging right at me. I fire my two remaining shots, but I might as well be tossing dandelions at him for all the good it does.
That leaves the second option.
I sprint toward the fountain.
But Carter’s not alone out here anymore. The cavalry has arrived. Bullets spark at my boots as I race toward the giant fountain and dive in.
Gunshots warble as my head dips below the surface. Then I’m on the other side of the statue, pressed against the smooth marble as gunfire peppers the granite.
“Stop firing you morons!” The bullets stop. “She’s mine.”
Deliberate footsteps pound across the driveway’s imported stone.
“Come on Javy, where are you…” I mutter beneath my breath.
There’s a loud splash as Carter jumps into the water.
Then the garage finally groans open, and I hear, “Tess!”
My head swivels, and I see Javier’s boots slide beneath the rising doors. Then all of him is visible. He fires as he pops out of his slide.
Carter roars. The water turns red.
“In the garage,” Javy calls. “Hurry.”
I leap out of the fountain and start running.
He splashes awkwardly in the water, trying to pursue. But apparently even this serum has limits to its powers. And catching half a dozen bullets to the chest in a few minutes seems to be near the breaking point.
The rest of the security team doesn’t fire at me as I dart across the driveway, apparently more afraid of disobeying Carter’s instructions than letting me escape.
The garage’s air-conditioned interior feels like the arctic tundra. Javier fires at Carter again and then vaults over the driver’s side door of a convertible.
I tumble over the passenger side, into the cramped back seat.
“Keep low.” Javier tosses his service weapon next to me and revs the imported engine a couple times. Men swarm the driveaway as the car slingshots out of the garage, into the light.
Some of them, having not heard Carter’s command, open fire.
I ignore Javy’s instructions.
I pop out and return fire as the tires scream and squeal. Smoky rubber spits through the bright morning air.
Their bullets don’t catch up with us.
Seconds later, we plow through the gold gate with a victorious clang.
Freedom.
Fourteen
The convertible whips around a corner going north of eighty. Javy’s cowboy cool remains unshaken. “Dom will hunt us down.”
“I’m the one who’ll be doing the hunting.” Not sure if I feel that bold having just escaped death’s jaws for the third or fourth time today, but hey, gotta put on a brave face. My partner over here sure isn’t showing any signs of weakness.
“A man without honor is the most dangerous of all. Do not underestimate him.” The words carry the weight of centuries. Which is impossible, given that he’s all of thirty-five years old. But I still can’t shake the feeling.
I stare out at the placid treetops. It’s funny how most of the evil in the world hides in plain sight. “How’d you find me all the way out there, anyway?”
“Tracked Carter’s phone.”
“Thanks for that.”
“You’d do the same for me.” Javy rubs his blood-streaked arm and grimaces. The convertible swerves and he slows down temporarily.
“You okay?”
“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.” He rolls down his shirt sleeve. But not before I catch a glimpse of a bullet wound on the inset of his forearm.
“Hey, if you took a bullet, maybe I should be driving.”
“I’ll be fine.” His tone tells me to drop it.
I change the subject. “Reynolds and Carter will be after you, too.”
“They can’t hurt me.”
“You could lose your job.”
“They know better.”
“Wouldn’t be so sure.”
“Trust me.” Javy leans back in his seat. “I’ll survive.”
“Does that mean my charges have been dropped?”
“I’m not a miracle worker, Tess.”
I shrug. “Doesn’t sound like you’re that untouchable, then.”
“We get the serum, that’s the first step in putting this mess to bed.”
“Yeah, about that.” I clear my throat.
He gives me a sideways glance. “What?”
“Uh, I took the Vitalysm. This morning.”
“Vitalysm?”
“That’s what Dom’s calling it. Catchy, right?”
The convertible squeals around a sharp country road turn.
“And by took it, you mean…”
“Exactly what you think it means.”
“You’re just sharing this now?”
“I didn’t know until twenty minutes ago.” I grimace, hesitating
whether to keep going. Then I say, “I can’t remember anything.” It feels good to admit it out loud. “Everything is gone.”
A look of understanding washes over Javy’s face. “Oh. Oh. Thought you were off back at the precinct. That explains it. I’m—I’m sorry, Tess. That he did it again.”
“It’s all good,” I say. “You didn’t know.”
A quiet calm falls over the car. The wind whistles through my hair as we continue to put distance between us and Dom’s estate.
“What did you mean by again?” My gaze narrows, searching for answers in his calm expression. “How many times has this happened, exactly?”
“Well, you’re not exactly Dom’s willing ally,” Javy says.
“What can I say? I don’t like assholes.”
He snorts. “I noticed. So he knows that you’re working against him, trying to bring him down. Won’t just stand by and let him get away with what he’s doing.”
“Why bother working with me at all?”
“You’re too valuable to get rid of. You made him a billionaire.”
That makes me want to vomit, but instead of puking all over the convertible, I manage to say, “Valuable how?”
“Can you remember anything at all?”
“Not really.” I look down at my boots. “Getting set up out in the Groves. Last year. That’s pretty much it.”
We hang a hard right. “Sorry I couldn’t do anything then—”
“Like I said, all good.” But I appreciate it all the same. “I got a question.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“What the hell is with the catsuit?” I gesture toward the leather, which is torn, bloodied, and covered in dust. Oh, and it’s now soggy from my trip through the fountain.
Javy laughs. “Can’t believe you don’t remember that.”
I glare at him. “I can’t remember anything.”
“I’m just saying, I figured that’d be imprinted on your DNA or something.”
“I’m still waiting for an explanation here, man.”
Javy takes both hands off the wheel and holds them up in mock surrender for a moment. “All right, all right. Back on your first day, you told Carter Price that you’d put him in jail.”
“Why?”
“Because you knew he was a piece of shit from your time together in the academy.”
Drop Dead (Tess Skye Book 1) Page 6
