The Devil's Mouth (Alex Rains, Vampire Hunter Book 1)

by Matt Kincade

  Chapter Thirteen

  Carmen still wasn’t used to it, the way Alex could simply go away. In one second he was there, all puckish smiles, exuberant, eyes alive and expressive, and the next moment, like a cloud passing in front of the sun, it was all gone. His eyes became cold pits, his mouth a line like a razor cut. She could almost feel the pressure drop in the room, like an oncoming storm front. She came to think of it as his murder face. No grief, no sadness, just murder. She suddenly felt like a spectator in a dangerous world.

  Alex clenched his fists. “What happened?”

  “Someone hit the RV. With an RPG.”

  Alex nodded absently. “Goddamn. Must’ve tracked us when we left Las Cruces. Tagged him when we met the next mornin’. Probably one on the SUV too. That’d explain how they found us at the lawyer’s house.”

  Jen said, “Cooper tells me the feds are pretty interested in why a heavily armored recreational vehicle packed with military-grade electronics was attacked with a rocket launcher in the New Mexico desert.”

  “Yeah, well, I imagine they would be.” Alex sat down on the couch and stared at his hands. “Goddamn. We shoulda been more careful. I got cocky.”

  Carmen sat down beside him and put an arm around his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she said. Alex softened ever so slightly, a nearly imperceptible response to her touch. Jen raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

  “It’s part of the job, losin’ people. It’s war. Don’t mean it ever gets easy. Me an’ Mack, we went back a ways.” He turned to Jen. “Somebody plannin’ a funeral?”

  “Yeah. I heard there’s going to be a roundup next week. Cooper’s going to get me the location.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “You want a beer?”

  “You got some?”

  “In the van.”

  Jen returned with bags of groceries and a twelve-pack of Corona. She put the groceries away in the kitchen, then handed the beers out, tapping her bottle neck to theirs. “To Mack.”

  “To Mack,” Alex and Carmen said in unison.

  Jen sat on the arm of the couch and peered at Alex’s forehead. “I think those stitches can come out now. How’re you feeling?”

  Alex shrugged. “Gettin’ better, I guess. Rib still hurts like hell. Still hurts to walk. But nothin’ feels permanent.”

  “Good, good. That’s what I like to hear.” Jen went to her van and fetched her medical kit. She set the orange box on the floor and opened the lid, selecting a tiny pair of scissors. One by one, she delicately snipped the sutures in Alex’s forehead, then pulled them out with tweezers. “I want you to take at least another week off before you get back to business.”

  “A week? Darlin’, I’m fine. I can kick ass one-legged.”

  Jen’s tone grew serious. “Listen to me, Alex. Another week. Even that’s pushing it. You suffered a nice little concussion. If you get hit in the head again before it’s healed, things could get a lot worse. Like, brain damage worse.”

  Alex shook his head. “You women, always worryin’.”

  “Well, somebody has to.” Jen snapped.

  Alex’s hand somehow found its way to Carmen’s. Jen finished her beer and set the empty bottle on the coffee table. “Well, look. I just wanted to check in on you. I’m a busy girl, so I’m going to be on my way.”

  Alex stood up. “C’mere, you.” He hugged Jen, and Carmen followed suit.

  “I’ll let you know about the funeral.”

  “Thanks for coming by…hell, thanks for everything. Take care of yourself.”

  Jen nodded and headed out the door. A minute later, they watched the van bounce away, down the gravel driveway.

  Carmen sat down next to Alex and rubbed his shoulders. “You okay?”

  “As well as you might expect. Gonna miss that old bastard.”

  “Yeah.”

  Alex nodded slowly. “In the end, just one more score to settle.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Carmen woke at sunrise when Alex slid out from beside her. In the weeks since learning of Mack’s death, she’d become accustomed to Alex’s schedule. She pretended to sleep, watching him as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and rubbed sleep from his eyes. He stood up, still dressed in the sweatpants and T-shirt he’d slept in, and picked up a pair of gym shoes. He left the bedroom. Birds sang outside, and the early morning light made the blinds glow. Carmen closed her eyes.

  When she opened her eyes again, she looked at the clock and saw that a half-hour had passed. Carmen climbed out of bed and dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. She walked through the living room to the kitchen. While she made coffee, Carmen looked through the kitchen window and saw Alex exercising in the backyard. He finished a set of push-ups and immediately transitioned to a pull-up bar. When the coffee was ready, she poured two cups and carried them out to the back porch.

  She sat down on the steps and enjoyed the brisk chill of the morning air, the pink sky still lingering from the sunrise.

  Alex finished his last set of pull-ups and let go of the bar. He was breathing hard and his bare chest glistened with sweat, but he continued without pause and began his martial arts forms.

  Carmen remembered sitting in the same spot and watching him exercise the first morning she had woken here. She ran her fingers over the welted ridges of scar tissue on her neck.

  Alex moved as if he were underwater. His arms rose gracefully, his entire body expanding then contracting. He stood on one foot, the toe of the other foot resting just below his knee. The leg rose into a slow-motion kick then fell again. He landed, catlike, in a low stance, hands out wide. Again Carmen thought of falling water. With each movement his entire body seemed to breathe, to expand, then collapse into itself.

  Abruptly the tempo changed. Alex leapt up and shifted into a lightning-fast series of punches and kicks, exhaling sharply with each strike, climaxing with a spinning jump kick. He landed and twisted his legs together as he sank, finishing in a full crouch. He rose again, took a solid two-legged stance, and brought his arms up and around, like a closing flower, until his hands rested in front of his belly. He brought his arms to his sides and bowed.

  He pulled his leg back into a runner’s stretch. “She’s a little stiff yet. But I think I’m back in the race.” He came over to the porch steps and leaned down to kiss Carmen on the forehead.

  She smiled contentedly. “That’s tai chi, right?”

  “Mostly,” he said. “Is that coffee?” He accepted the cup. “Thanks. Yeah, little tai chi, little bit of other stuff.”

  “Still seems like an odd thing for a guy like you to get into.”

  “It’s kind of a funny story. Short version is, one time I got my ass handed to me by a scrawny old Asian man. Can’t say I didn’t deserve it. After…well, after I met Maggie, I started takin’ lessons from him. He did a lot for me. Not just fighting. He straightened me out in the head. Helped me see a lot a things clearer.”

  “Seems like he did a pretty good job.”

  “I like to think so.” He set down the mug. “So…you ready for today’s lesson?”

  Carmen smiled. “Bring it on.”

  “Atta girl.” Alex stood and went into the house. A moment later, he returned with two curved wooden swords. He tossed one to Carmen, who stood and held the sword at her side.

  “More sword drills today?” she said.

  “Hell with that. Let’s just fight.” Even as he spoke, he whipped his wooden blade around in a side cut. Carmen raised her sword awkwardly, handle up, but still blocked the strike. She parried Alex’s blade away and returned the cut. He stepped back to avoid her attack. He laughed. “Good! Damn, girl, you’re getting’ good! You got me grinnin’ like a possum eatin’ sweet ’taters.”

  Carmen smiled in return and pressed the attack. The swords clacked together as Alex blocked. They circled each other around the yard, lunging, dodging, pouring sweat, breathing hard. “You’re gettin’ the right attitude. You’re fightin’ like you got somethin to lose.”

  She lunge
d and drove her sword point at his midsection. Alex blocked the thrust, trapped up her arm, and swept her leg. She tumbled to the ground. “But I still win.” He grinned as he held the sword to her throat.

  “Oh yeah?” Carmen responded. She smirked. Alex felt the wooden tip of her sword tap him in the groin.

  He beamed. “Hot damn, girl, you got me! Good for you!”

  Carmen lay on the grass, reclining on her elbow. “I guess I did, didn’t I?” she said. “It only took a week of trying.”

  “That’s better than a lot of folks ever do. You’re a natural.” He held out a hand to help her up. But when Carmen took his hand, she hooked his knee with her leg and pulled him down to the ground. He let it happen and tumbled onto the grass next to her.

  “Treachery!” said Alex. “I am undone.” They wrestled for a few moments, ending with Carmen straddling him. They were both panting as she pinned his arms out to his sides.

  “I got you again,” she said, her tone a bit more serious.

  “You did at that.”

  Carmen leaned down and kissed him. Her hair fell around his face. She let go of his wrists, and he ran his hands up her hips. He pulled her in closer, and his lips worked their way down her jawline, then to her neck. She sat up, smiling, her hair a mess, leaning both hands on Alex’s belly.

  Alex looked up at her. He said, “Hey, I been thinking. I’m about healed up, and your ankle is fine. What say we get back on the road? Go hunt us some vamps?”

  “Yeah,” said Carmen. “I like the sound of that. It’s about time.” She stood and pulled Alex up by his hands.

  Alex grinned. “Past time.”

  Carmen sat down on the porch steps and drank from her now-cold cup of coffee. “So what’s the plan? I’m thinking it all comes back to Monesco Holdings. That’s still our best lead. Don Carlos has to be connected somehow.”

  Dusting grass clippings from his jeans, Alex said, “I’m thinkin’ you’re right. We should stake out some of these Monesco businesses. Some of ’em must be some kinda front for the blood trade. And if there’s blood, there’s vampires. So we wait and watch, find another vamp, then follow him until he goes and talks to the boss.”

  Carmen nodded then took another swig of water. “That makes sense. So…let’s think. The vampire we killed, he had some kind of fruit—or something—on his shoe, remember?”

  “Yeah, Mack was gonna find out what it was. Guess that ain’t gonna happen.”

  “Okay. Well, vampires don’t eat, right? So there must have been a reason he was around food. A restaurant? A supermarket? A food warehouse? I think one of the Monesco businesses was a produce warehouse.”

  “Okay, that’s good…as good a start as any. Let’s go find us some vampires.”

  ***

  “Well, this is the place.” Alex peered through his binoculars at the warehouse.

  The sign out front read, aj’s produce. It looked like just any of the other warehouses surrounding it, in a dingy industrial area of Las Cruces, not far from the Wagon Wheel Motel. It was an immense steel building with a loading dock running the entire length of one of its sides. The cargo doors were all closed, and the last workers straggled out the door before the manager locked the door.

  “It sure looks like a produce warehouse,” said Carmen. She had her own pair of binoculars, and she held a strawberry milkshake between her thighs.

  Alex held a chocolate shake in his right hand. He sipped at it absentmindedly. “Well, it’s supposed to look like a produce warehouse. Ain’t gonna have no sign sayin’, this here’s a vampire-front company.”

  “So now we just wait until we see something shady?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “I don’t see anything yet.”

  “Me neither.”

  A light rain speckled the windshield, making the lights outside bleed and run. The warehouse appeared to be still and empty, the freight entrances closed and locked.

  Carmen unhooked her seat belt and scooted across the bench seat. She leaned against Alex, who hung his arm over her shoulder. “So,” she said. She sipped at her milkshake. The straw creaked as she adjusted it. “Mind if I ask you a question?”

  Alex cocked an eyebrow. “Guess that depends on the question.”

  “The vampire who…you know, your family. Did you get him?”

  “No.” Alex picked up his binoculars and scanned the warehouse. “No, I never did. I broke ’im. Killed his brood, burned his home, ran him right outta town. But he got away. I’ll get the son of a bitch someday.”

  “And when you get him, what then? Are you just going to keep hunting? Once you have your revenge?”

  He put down the binoculars. “Don’t rightly know. Maybe when I’m hangin’ his sword on my wall, I’ll feel different. But for now, I don’t think I’ll be done until I’ve killed every last one of ’em. That’s revenge. Every last damn one.”

  “You don’t ever think about retiring?” When he didn’t answer right away, she said, “Do people ever retire from this?”

  “Lotta hunters die young. Most, even. Some can’t hack it no more and move on to other things. Some manage to get old and fat. Thing is, I feel like I found my calling. I’m good at it. I’m havin’ fun, I’m makin’ money. Why would I want to move on from that?”

  “I don’t know, maybe the constant risk of a horrible, violent death?”

  He laughed. “Aw, come on. Me, quit huntin’ vampires? It’d be like Beethoven quitting the piano.” Alex twisted in his seat to face her. “What about you? When we get that vamp who killed your sister, you gonna keep huntin’? Or you gonna move on to something else?”

  Carmen smiled wryly. “I don’t have the slightest idea. Guess I’ll get the job done first, and then I’ll see how I feel about it.”

  “Fair enough.” Alex raised his milkshake. “To revenge,” he said.

  “To revenge.”

  Alex raised the binoculars again. A few minutes later, he noticed something at the warehouse. He sat up in his seat and tapped Carmen on the arm. “All right, here we go. Now we got us some action.”

  A white van pulled up to the warehouse. Two men in dark-blue jumpsuits climbed out. One of them lit a cigarette. “Okay, them two are the help. They’re waitin’ on the boss, so they can…” Alex stopped.

  The men opened the back of the van. They attached a metal ramp and rolled out a propane-powered floor buffer.

  Carmen snickered. “Or maybe they’re the janitors.”

  Alex crossed his arms and glared out the side window. “Well, they was actin’ mighty suspicious.”

  They waited and watched through the night. As daylight threatened on the horizon, the first workers of the morning shift trickled in. Doors rolled up. Lights came on.

  “I don’t think anything’s going to happen,” said Carmen.

  “Yeah, I’m thinkin’ you’re right. Maybe tomorrow.”

  ***

  Alex insisted on staying in a run-down fighter-jet themed motel called the Afterburner Inn, along the highway on the outskirts of the city. They slept until the afternoon. Carmen woke to see Alex doing fingertip pull-ups on the doorframe of the bathroom. They had an early dinner and went back to their surveillance.

  Nothing happened.

  And nothing happened the third night. All out of patience, Alex picked the lock on the back door and they searched the office, finding nothing but the excruciatingly boring paper work that accompanied fruit and vegetable logistics.

  They drove away as sunrise loomed. “I hate to say it,” Carmen said, “but I think we might have been wrong about this place.”

  Alex let out a long sigh. “Darlin’, I hate to say it more, but I think you’re right.”

  “Well, shit. Now what do we do?”

  “Hell, we’ll figure somethin’ out. Maybe go back over the—” Alex’s cell phone buzzed in his pocket. He answered. The conversation was brief. When he hung up, he wrote something down on a napkin. “Guess we know what we’re doin’ now,” he said.
<
br />   “And what’s that?

  “Goin’ to a funeral.”

  ***

  “This still seems like an odd place for a funeral,” said Carmen. They drove over a cracked ribbon of heat-shimmering blacktop, running straight as a razor’s edge through the middle of the Arizona desert. On either side, red desert and flat-topped mesas scrolled past.

  “It’s a perfect place for a vampire hunter’s funeral,” said Alex, “Space, privacy, and plenty of sunshine.”

  The turnoff was little more than a track in the dirt, an unnamed intersection marked by an ancient fencepost. Alex barely slowed down for the turn, throwing up a huge cloud of silt as the truck left the pavement.

  Carmen held the passenger side roof handle. “And I still feel underdressed,” she said.

  “Aw, don’t worry. I told you, it ain’t like a funeral funeral. Mack was in the ground weeks ago. This is just some folks getting’ together to say goodbye and get drunk. You won’t be the only one in jeans and a T-shirt.” He nonchalantly charged through the turns, leaning casually against the doorframe. “This is a good chance for you to meet some people. Networkin’ and all that. Shit, funerals are ’bout the only time we all get together.”

  “So you don’t have a convention or anything?” Carmen said with a smirk.

  “Every once in a while.”

  “I was kidding. You actually have vampire-hunter conventions?”

  “Like I say, every now’n again. Gets dangerous havin’ us all in once place for too long, though. Puttin’ all our eggs in one basket, like. Makes too good a target. Plus, last convention got a little rowdy. The venue ain’t askin’ us back again.”

  A row of barbed wire fence tilted across the desert, stretching out of sight on either side. Where it crossed the dirt road, there was a metal gate and a cattle guard. Alex left the engine running and stepped out of the truck. As he reached out to examine the padlock, a red dot appeared on his chest. He froze.

  One of the surrounding creosote bushes stood up and became a man wearing a desert-pattern ghillie suit. His face was painted in broad stripes of black and tan. He held a rifle steady on Alex.