The guards down here were used to being manhandled, so Martin stayed calm. “You mean the ladies. You know, I can’t let you near the girls if you’re in a pissy mood like this. Put me down now, or General Murray may be inclined to keep you down here and let the women decide your fate.”
Knuckles clenched his teeth so tightly Tank thought they were going to crack, but he dropped Martin to the floor. The cadet didn’t look flustered at all. He just smoothed his uniform, placed his hands behind his back, and rocked forward.
“Mama Lou will see to you. Be nice to the women —or else.” He stepped aside to let the men pass.
Knuckles looked Martin up and down.
“Come on,” Tank told Knuckles, pulling him down the tunnel.
When Massimo and Kelvin got to Scott’s house, he was laid out on the ground in front, and there was a bloody pool around his head. His legs were twisted at unnatural angles. It looked as though he had jumped from a second-floor window.
Massimo looked at the two-story home. The front door was open, but otherwise, nothing looked out of place. “Did he fall from one of the windows? Why do you think it was a murder? It looks like an accident or a suicide to me.”
Kelvin pointed up at the second story. “The windows are all closed, and there’s no roof or overhang to stand on. How could Scott have closed a window after he jumped? That would be one hell of a trick, if you ask me.”
“Good observation,” Massimo agreed. “Looks like we’ve got our very own midsummer-night mystery on our hands.” There were no police or detectives in the town, so he’d have to become one. “What did Annie say?”
“It was hard to work out what she was saying—just that Scott had been murdered. She was all worked up, and still in her night clothes.”
Massimo thought about the detective shows he’d watched so many centuries ago and what they would do next. The intro theme from ‘Law and Order, Special Victims Unit’ played in his head.
Images of Olivia Benson came to his mind. She was one of the main reasons he had watched the show. Massimo really liked strong, sexy women. He tried to shake the thought, however pleasurable, from his mind. He needed to focus.
First, they would investigate the crime scene, then go and speak to the next of kin, family, and friends. The murderer was usually someone the victim knew—at least, that was always the case on television.
Massimo decided to start with the body. He didn’t know what he was looking for, but he hoped there’d be a clue.
“Have you moved the body?” Massimo asked.
Kelvin gave him a look. “Of course not.”
Massimo knelt for a closer inspection. It did look like he’d fallen from the window, but he might have been pushed.
“Do you have any gloves?” Massimo asked.
Kelvin looked confused. “What do you want gloves for?”
“True.” Massimo smiled. He didn’t have to worry about fingerprints or DNA evidence, but he liked how he’d quickly fallen into the detective’s role. He always thought he would have made a good detective before the world went to shit.
Massimo placed his hands under Scott’s body and rolled him over, and both men gasped at the sight. Scott’s intestines were on the outside of his body, and half of his neck was missing. It looked like it had been ripped off.
Massimo gulped. “This doesn't look like a human attack, or someone was trying to make it look that way at least.” Massimo hoped it was the second option. He didn’t want to come up against the animal that had done this.
He looked at his hands, which were covered in Scott’s blood. The vampire in him wanted to taste the blood, and the human part wanted to throw up.
“Let’s go inside. We can check for any clues, and I need to wash the damned blood from my hands.”
They went inside. After scrubbing his hands, Massimo looked around the house for anything out of the ordinary. The only odd thing was that the home was pretty empty, with very few personal belongings lying around. Even in this era, Massimo expected to find some clutter.
“Were there any problems between Scott and Annie?” Massimo asked as he sat in a creaky chair at the kitchen table.
Kelvin shook his head. “You know I can't share what my customers say when they’re in the Old Dog.”
Massimo looked at Kelvin and laughed. “I was the one who made that rule. You’re allowed to break it with me.” Apparently, Massimo had trained Kelvin too well in bartending skills.
Kelvin sighed. “Okay, look. Scott has been spending a lot of time in the Old Dog. Like a lot.”
Massimo shrugged. “And?”
“Well, he didn't say much. He wasn’t the chatty type. It’s more what the other patrons said.”
“What were they saying?” Massimo asked, leaning forward.
“That Annie was having an affair behind Scott’s back.”
“The plot thickens!” Massimo got up and started pacing in the kitchen. “Nine times out of ten, it’s the spouse. Scott could have come home and seen his wife with another man. Then, a fight broke out, and Scott lost.”
“That would have to have been one hell of a fight,” Kelvin said. “Scott was no pushover.”
Massimo nodded. “True. Maybe a knife was used to cut his stomach open.”
Kelvin frowned. “And the neck bite?”
“That could have been from an animal after Scott was already dead. Let’s go see what Annie has to say for herself.”
Terrier was hiding down a tunnel off the women’s level where the men worked to keep the bunker running. It was hot and humid, but a great hiding spot. Like Mama Lou had told him, Ryder had broken the cameras in this tunnel. Afana wouldn’t be able to see him there.
He was behind some huge pipes, and since it wasn’t well-lit, he was able to hide in the shadows. The only problem was that there wasn’t enough room to sit, and he was getting tired. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, hiding the whites of them from any hunters.
Terrier heard a groan coming from down the tunnel, but it didn’t sound human.
Were none of these damn tunnels empty? He felt drawn to peek out from his hiding spot, but he didn’t want to reveal himself. His hand gripped his axe; Terrier was ready for anything—anything but Afana.
Terrier could be scary, but Afana was fucking terrifying.
The groaning got louder and closer. Then, it stopped. Terrier was about to hazard a glance into the tunnel when a hand reached behind the pipes, and grasping fingers came toward Terrier.
He jumped to the side, narrowly avoiding the grasping claw. Terrier swung his axe at the hand, but it moved before he could hack it off. Another hand reached around the other pipe, this time ripping at Terrier’s shirt. The man was strong—really strong—and he pulled Terrier out of his hiding spot.
It was Nestor.
Blood dripped from his mouth, and his eyes glowed red. Whatever had happened to Ivan was happening to Nestor, and he was hungry for Terrier’s blood. Nestor charged him, arms out and slavering mouth agape.
Terrier swung his axe. “Fuck off, you scrappy prick.” The axe connected with Nestor’s side. Terrier quickly pulled it out, but Nestor kept coming for him. It was like the fucker didn’t even feel it. Ivan had been the same way, and they had only stopped Ivan by chopping off his head.
“Nestor, fucking quit it, or I’ll end you like I did Ivan!”
Terrier was trying to keep his voice down. He didn’t want anyone else to hear the commotion and come to investigate. But Nestor didn’t listen to the warning, leaving Terrier no choice but to make good on his threat.
The big man swung, and Nestor’s head tumbled to the floor with a thud. His body quickly followed. Breathing heavily, Terrier shoved Nestor’s body out of sight behind the pipes. Then, he dropped in the head for good measure before he took off running, cursing his luck.
He needed to find another place to hide.
15
The girl was no longer in the thorn bush circle. Instead, she was asleep close to
the rocks at the base of the mountain. She looked peaceful.
Leandro inched closer to her. He wanted to speak to her, but he had no idea what to say. He got too close, and his fur brushed her arm. She reached out and pulled him toward her like he was a furry blanket. Leandro didn't know what to do, so he went with it.
He liked her arm around him. She pulled him closer to her, and he helped her. Her breast pushed against Leandro’s side.
Yup, definitely a woman.
Part of him wanted to laugh at the thought of her waking up and seeing that she was hugging a wolf. He could turn into a human, but that would give her a worse fright, lying next to a naked man and not knowing where he’d come from.
Leandro decided to stay and enjoy himself for a moment. He’d never lain with a woman before, and he felt a new sensation, which he liked very much.
Leaving her arms would be hard to do, but Leandro had to. The sun would be rising soon, and so would she.
Massimo and Kelvin entered the Old Dog, the bar that was Massimo’s finest work. Unlike the rest of Pinewood, which was based on the town he’d grown up in, the bar was a combination of all his favorite watering holes, most of them in England. Because of this, there was an English country pub-theme to the Old Dog.
It had taken Leandro years to find all the pieces to decorate the bar. It was a veritable mishmash, and it was Leandro’s proudest work. The people of Pinewood loved it. It really was the heart of the town, and you could tell by the fact that there were no empty seats in the bar this evening—or most other evenings.
Some of the locals pretended the church was the heart and soul of the town, because no matter what happened, religion always stayed around somehow. But they were just wrong. Religion could help some feel better, but a tall drink and a laugh made everyone feel good—at least for a brief moment in time.
Annie sat at a table, and her hands shook as she raised the glass of beer to her lips. Her hair was disheveled, and she was still in her nightgown. Even in this state, she was quite a looker.
Kelvin and Massimo sat across the table from her. Kelvin looked uncomfortable, but Massimo was warming up to playing detective.
“I know this is hard for you, Annie,” he said. “We just need to find out who did this to Scott.”
Annie took a big gulp and sat the mug down on the table. “I came out of the house, and Scott was out on the path, not moving.”
Massimo gave the woman a sympathetic smile to put her at ease. “Why was Scott home? Isn’t he normally at work at that time of day?”
“Yes. I don’t know why he was home.”
“Why were you at home and not at the school?” Massimo asked. Annie’s sobs stopped, and she looked at Massimo soberly.
Annie narrowed her eyes at Massimo, leaning back slightly. “Because I was feeling unwell,” she told him. Massimo read her defensive posture and tone loud and clear, Annie was most probably lying to him.
“Did anyone else pay you a visit?” Massimo asked.
Annie folded her arms, frowning at Massimo. It was clear she knew where his line of questioning was going.
“No one,” she snapped, her eyes darting around the bar.
Massimo looked around the Old Dog. Most of the customers near them were old and hard of hearing. They weren’t listening in.
“Annie, I’m only trying to help. I don’t want a murderer on the loose. If there’s anything you’re not telling me, please do.”
Annie turned her head away from Massimo. “I’ve got nothing to tell you. Can’t you leave me to mourn my husband in peace?”
Massimo felt a twinge of guilt. Annie slumped and placed her hands over her face as she began to cry again. There was a faint white line on her ring finger, but no ring.
“Have you lost your wedding ring?” he asked.
Annie lowered her hands. “Andrew is fixing it for me.” Annie couldn’t prevent the blush that stole up her neck.
Interesting, Massimo thought to himself. Andrew was the town’s blacksmith. He was very talented, but slow to get anything done.
He paid attention to Annie’s face as he spoke. “Would you like me to speak to him and get him to hurry up?”
“No!” Annie snapped, confirming Massimo’s suspicions. Now, he knew he needed to see Andrew. The blacksmith was a bachelor, and around Annie’s age.
“I want to go home,” Annie blurted out through her tears. “Kelvin, would you mind walking me back?” Clearly, she was done talking with Massimo.
“Of course,” Kelvin said as he stepped from behind the bar.
“Before you go home, we should move his body,” Massimo told her gently. “I don’t want you to remember your husband that way. Kelvin, would you get Annie another drink? We’ll take care of Scott.”
Annie nodded her relief. “Thank you.”
Annie appeared to be grateful. Was it because of Massimo’s kindness, or because she didn’t want a reminder of what she’d done?
General Murray took Ivan’s head one level up. Unlike those idiot guards, Tank and Knuckles, he’d put Ivan’s head into a bag to keep any blood from dripping on the floor.
It was time for Murray to get into his role as ‘General Jerkoff’ again. He had to be on top of his game around the advisors, since they could smell a faker a mile away.
They loved nothing more than ratting out anyone they considered a traitor to Afana.
Murray handed the head to Advisor Jerkins, one of the scientists in the bunker. He was a skinny man and as pale as a ghost. He’d never left the bunker, just like his father and his father before him. General Murray wasn’t sure what Advisor Jerkins did with the heads, and he couldn’t give two fucks.
“Who is it this time?” Jerkins asked.
“Ivan, the chef.”
“Afana’s going to be pissed. He was the only one who made Italian food right. Why would that fat bastard try to leave?”
Ivan had been a mama’s boy, always hiding with her in the kitchen when the other boys were out training. He learned his mother’s family recipes, which seemed to impress Afana enough to allow Ivan to continue working in the kitchen instead of going out hunting with the other men.
Jerkins took a look inside the bag and quickly closed it. “Did you touch the head? No, let me rephrase that. Did any fluids from it touch you?” Jerkins stepped away as he spoke.
“No. Only a spot of blood on my boot when I was joking with Knuckles, but I got him to lick it off. You should have seen his fucking face. It was a right gem.”
Jerkins cut the general off, his voice growing higher in pitch with each question. “Did you touch the blood? Did you? Did you get any of it on you?”
“What kind of twisted fucker do you think I am? You’re the second jerkoff today to question me. I didn’t touch the goddamn head much, not like you fucking scientist animals.” Murray felt his blood pressure rising. This place was full of idiots. Sometimes he worried that he was playing the jerk too well, but then again, it had worked for all these years.
“General Murray, I'm actually trying to save your life, so if I were you, I’d be a little bit politer.”
Murray’s face twisted up in confusion. “What the fuck? How are you gonna save my life?”
“Did you look at Ivan's head and see what happened to him?” the scientist asked.
“Yeah, that dumb douche had his head chopped off. It looked like he took a beating, too. He was easy prey.”
Jerkins squeezed the bag so that Ivan’s grotesque face pressed against the plastic. “Take a good look at his face. It looks like there is something else wrong with him.”
Murray peered at it. “Yeah, he’s an ugly-assed ball sack. What’s your point?”
“General Murray, please take this seriously. When my father was alive, the Ebola virus spread through the bunker. It almost wiped out half the population. Another virus down here could be deadly.”
Jerkins closed the bag tightly. He should never have opened it in the first place. The virus could be airborne, and he
might have just exposed himself and the general.
Murray protested. “That's bullshit. I never heard this before, and I’m one of the highest generals. I would’ve been told if that was the case.”
“Afana made everyone who survived the virus swear an oath to him that they would never reveal it. He didn’t want people being afraid to stay in the bunker.” Jerkins realized that he’d just broken the oath, but then, he’d never made a promise to keep it a secret. His father had broken the oath when he told Jerkins. “You need to come with me to speak to Afana and tell him everything you know about Ivan. You can’t tell him I told you about the last time there was a virus. If you do, you will be infected.”
General Murray eyeballed Jerkins. “Is that a threat?”
The scientist’s face was stone serious. “No, it's a promise.”
The early morning sun warmed Ryder’s face, coaxing her awake. Her head pounded, and her throat was dry. The pit of her stomach told her something had happened last night, but she didn’t know what. That was never good.
Her body ached when she got up. She’d slept in a weird position, which wasn’t surprising, considering she had slept on rocks. Gathering her belongings, she noticed that two of her arrows were stained with dried, rust-colored blood. The blood could have been from Ivan. She checked her other weapons—there was blood on her ankle knife, too. Ryder hadn’t used it in past fights, so this blood was new.
Ryder wasn’t injured, and she smelled cleaner than she had in a long time. She had a fuzzy memory of being in a pond, which would explain the change. Whatever had occurred with her weapons, it surely happened to someone who deserved it. Even at her drunkest, she was never violent without a good reason.
In one day, she’d had two blackouts. She needed to make sure she didn’t have another. I need a clear head to get the hell out of here and up into the mountains. I hope the town is still there.
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