Half-Blood Secrets: A Paranormal Series (Half-Bloods Book 2)
Page 25
“Times like these it would be convenient ye had a flying form,” he muttered at Emery.
She grabbed the empty backpack at her feet and groaned. “I wouldn’t make it as a bird. I like food too much.”
Deane got out and flipped his seat forward to let Marisol from the back seat. She climbed out looking even more nervous than the last time they’d come. He looked at her with apprehension. As if she could read his mind, she muttered, “Yeah, I’m scared. But I’m sure. Friends are the family you choose.”
He shrugged, then went on to explain, “So ye can shed yer clothing, and Emery will carry it to the house. One benefit of a bear is they can tow a load, big or small.”
Emery came around the hood of the car wearing a smirk and waved. “I’ll be your Sherpa for the evening.”
Deane touched Marisol’s shoulder to get her attention. “We’ll all approach the home together, guiding Emery in. From there, I need ye to do recon like last time. If things go right, we’ll be over the wall by the time ye’re back. We’ll need ye one more time to let us into the home. After that, ye are to get clear and wait at the truck. If we don’t return by daylight, get yerself back to Martin’s and call yer cousin. Understand?”
The girl’s eyes had widened by the time he finished, but she swallowed and nodded in silence. Deane gestured at the back of the vehicle. “Well, off with ye. Ye can change over there for some privacy.”
Marisol crept behind the truck, and Deane turned away. He started unbuttoning his shirt and stopped Emery before she walked past. He took a deep breath and met her gaze. “Thank ye for doing this. Ye might be confoundin’ at times, but yer one of the best partners I’ve ever had.”
“Yeah?” She seemed surprised by his comment, and her lips parted to form a smile. Emery pulled him into a hug and gave him an extra hard squeeze. “Come here, you ol’ grump. I love you, too.”
“Hey.” Deane sputtered. “I didn’t say that.”
She let go and backed toward the tailgate of the truck, still wearing her signature smirk, and winked. “Sure you didn’t.”
“Whatever,” he mumbled and turned away to hide his crooked grin.
With their clothing secured in the backpack hanging from her bear jaws, Emery lumbered away on foot, moving off the road and onto the grassy hills with Deane leading the way overhead. The sun had melted beyond the horizon, leaving the world in darkness, but that didn’t prevent Marisol, Emery or Deane from seeing their way across the terrain.
As he flew overhead, he noticed two very large moving trucks parked in the front drive of the home. They arrived at the outer part of the exterior walls, and Emery stopped behind some bushy foliage. Deane spotted two nearby security cameras and landed beside them. One by one, he used his talons to adjust their position, pointing them away from the area. A tiny spot flew up and huddled beside him. He looked down at Marisol, not knowing what she was waiting for. It was time for her to do her part.
Her beady eyes stared back at him. Impatiently, he lifted his wings and hooted at her. Marisol pulled herself to the edge and took off. She was a blur through the air as she sped toward the house.
Deane returned his attention to Emery, still in bear form, standing at the base of the wall. Bears could climb, but the smooth stone privacy wall was easily eight feet high. He flapped his wings and took to the sky to spot the best point of entry and noticed a wooden door from the garden. Deane circled lower, perching on a shrub. It was bolted shut from within. That would be easy enough to unlock.
He scanned the garden and the whole of the backyard for security cameras and did as before, tilting them from position, then flew to the gravel path before the door. Deane twisted his head around to stare at the home behind him. Light poured from a few windows on the bottom floor, and all was quiet. He swallowed and said a prayer before calling to his power that returned him to his human form.
Deane stood up, slid the bolt aside and opened the exterior garden door. He stepped through, nearly walking into Emery, who was dressed in a pair of jeans and a form-fitting shirt. She held her tongue and thrust out the backpack to him, sealing her eyes shut. Within minutes, Deane had dressed himself in his clothes and cleared his throat, signaling Emery it was clear.
They waited in silence for Marisol to return. Within minutes, her tiny form flew up and clung to Emery’s black shirt. A short-winded squeal escaped the enforcer’s lips before she quieted, scooping the flying mammal into her hands and setting it on the ground. Deane handed the backpack over and turned around.
Moments later, Marisol’s whispered voice met his ears. “Riley is in the same room as before. I could see him through the window.”
“What of Verity?” he asked as quietly as he could over his shoulder. He was afraid to hear the answer.
“She’s tied up to a chair in one of the downstairs rooms just off the kitchen. It had a stuffed peacock in the window.”
Deane breathed out in relief. After listening to Emery’s convincing point of view the whole drive out there, he’d begun to doubt Verity’s loyalties, though he wouldn’t have admitted it. He’d feared Emery had been right to question her.
“She could be bait,” Emery muttered.
He clenched his jaw and shook his head. Even if she was, he couldn’t let Lycos threaten the lives of two people he’d grown to care for. Deane could not and would not stand by.
“Did ye see anyone guarding them?” he asked.
Marisol walked around him wearing an oversized sweatshirt that hung above her knees. She peered around the corner of the wall and pointed through the gateway at the home. “Not that I saw. I couldn’t find any open windows, so I couldn’t get inside. There are people packing in a few of the upstairs bedrooms, and someone was shredding paper in a downstairs office.”
“How many did ye count?” Deane questioned.
The girl remained quiet for a moment as her brow furrowed. “I don’t know, maybe like seven?”
“That leaves quite a few unaccounted for.” Deane didn’t like it, but they were running out of time. Lycos had threatened to kill Riley, and if Verity was tied up, she was being treated like a hostage, not a beloved daughter. “Right, I think we can assume the doors will be secured. Ye said there were no open windows?”
“Not that I saw.” Marisol looked at him.
“Ye’ll have to find another way in then. Maybe a vent or a mail slot?” Deane suggested. “If ye can get into the kitchen and unlock the back door, we’ll take it from there.”
The young woman nodded but seemed uneasy.
Deane looked down at her and put his hand on her shoulder. “We’re going to do everything we can to get Riley out of there safe and sound if ye can get us in.”
“Right.”
He turned away so she could shift once more into her animal form. Soft squeaking met his ears and the sound of flapping wings melted into silence. He sighed, and Emery crossed her fingers. They ducked through the garden door onto the property and moved low to the ground all the way up to a tall hedge near the exterior door that led out from the kitchen.
They waited, peering around the leafy barrier for some time. Deane began to worry she hadn’t been able to find a way in, or even worse, she’d been caught or killed in the process. She was still just a young woman at the beginning of her prime. He’d have a hard time forgiving himself if anything happened to her.
The soft click of a door handle broke the silent night. A naked blur ran past them to the opposite shrub. Emery was quick to throw the backpack across the way at the huddled girl while Deane set his attention to the half open door leading into the kitchen. She’d done it.
“Thank ye, now get yerself to safety,” he whispered without looking her way.
Deane gestured to Emery and crept toward the house. Behind them, Marisol’s voice chased after them. “Go through to the right, and you’ll find Verity.”
He lifted his hand in understanding and kept moving. He felt his partner close behind him as he stepped over the threshold an
d into the home. The lights were on in the empty room. The space didn’t give the impression of being lived in. Though he knew not to expect bowls of fruit on the counter or fresh bread in the oven.
Without hesitation, he moved across the space to the door leading to the right, just as Marisol had said. He rested his ear against the wood panels, listening for voices. Deane placed his hand on the knob and turned slowly, opening the door no more than an inch. He peeked through, looking for movement.
The beautiful green plumage of a peacock filled his vision. Feathers fanned out in a half circle in the window. And just before the ledge in a padded Victorian chair was Verity, hands tied to the armrests and her ankles secured with nylon twine. She was slumped back in a crooked position, her hair a tangle about her face.
Deane opened the door the rest of the way, scanning the room before running to her side. He took hold of her shoulders and gave her a shake. “Verity—Verity, wake up.”
Emery hurried into the room and immediately started untying Verity’s bindings. The blond vampire sniffed and wrinkled her brow. Her blue eyes dilated and flashed in surprise.
“It’s okay, shhh,” Deane whispered, trying to catch her attention before she alerted the household.
Verity straightened up in her seat and shook her hair from her eyes. The lump on her forehead she’d received days ago was bleeding and enflamed once again. Tears welled and her voice came out in a choked whisper, “I’m so sorry. I thought he would see reason—I thought I could save everyone.”
“Shhh.” Deane put his hands on her shoulders, just thankful to find her alive. “Don’t worry yerself about it now. What of yer father? Does he suspect we’d come?”
“I don’t know.” She turned sideways so Emery could untie her wrists now that her legs were free. “But I told him I was alone.”
“I knew ye would.” He directed his comment toward Emery, who rolled her eyes and wrestled with the knot.
A sheer look of terror filled Verity’s face. “What about Riley—is he safe?”
“Aye, for now.” Deane pointed at the ceiling. “He’s up in the bedroom—can ye lead the way?”
Her restraints were dropped to the floor. Verity rubbed her wrists and nodded.
Twenty
Verity’s wrists and ankles were sore, but none of that mattered. Her head throbbed from the welcome her father had given her, which was the last thing she remembered. She was thankful Lycos hadn’t killed her on the spot. He had likely waited to finish her off at the last moment, wanting all of their possessions to get packed before dealing with his dirty work.
She moved across the library. The room hadn’t held much interest for her family when she was growing up, so it was a place she’d hidden from them. While her cousins were taught fighting techniques and amused themselves in other ways, she’d read all of the classics and more. It allowed a means of escape without ever putting a toe off the property. Verity touched the side of one of the bookcases lovingly before leading Emery and Deane to the door.
Rather than taking them through the kitchen, she instead led them to the room on the other side of the library. It would take them to the back stairwell which was the more inconspicuous choice to get up to the second floor. Verity put her hand on the door and paused. She spoke in an undertone. “The last time I was here, this room was fully stocked. Prepare yourselves.”
She opened the door a crack to peek through, then sighed and swung it open the rest of the way. It was just as she remembered it.
Deane and Emery entered, and a look of disgust contorted their faces. A number of hospital beds filled the room. But they weren’t empty. Men and women of varied ages lay perfectly still. Catatonic to be precise. IVs were hooked up to their flaccid arms and a multitude of bite marks covered their flesh, all in different stages of healing.
“What in God’s name?” Deane muttered in shock.
Verity walked up to one of the beds, where a gray-haired woman with gaunt cheeks was propped. Verity rested her hand on the woman’s arm. “I remember her. I named her Betsy. She looked like a Betsy to me. Dolan and Nissa liked the taste of her blood. She was one of their favorites.”
“I don’t understand.” Emery stood beside a man who looked to be in his twenties.
Verity shrugged. “Father said there wasn’t enough energy from animal blood—human blood gave a bigger boost and tasted better. Before my time, he fed off the lowest sort in society. Always trying to avoid notice. Never wanting to draw attention to our kind, taking the people who wouldn’t be missed. It was an answer to his prayers when IVs were invented—a means of support to suspend human life indefinitely. They were drained in moderation, kept sedated with our venom and replaced as they fell ill or wasted away.”
“These poor people,” Emery muttered, gazing at their blank expressions. “We have to save them.”
Deane cleared his throat. “There will be no saving them if we don’t get out of here. We have to find Riley.”
Verity left Betsy’s side and led them to a darkened enclosed stairwell. “This is the servant’s access. It will take us near Dolan and Nissa’s bedroom. We’ll need to make it through two hallways without being spotted.”
She rested her foot on the first step and cocked her ear to listen for movement or voices. Hearing nothing, she tiptoed up the flight until she reached the closed door that led into the hallway. Again, she stopped. Somewhere nearby rock music was being played. Its muffled thumping reverberated the walls. There was no telling if anyone was near—she would have to chance it.
Verity slowly unlatched the door and eased it open. Her eyes blinked up and down the empty hall. She breathed out, preparing herself for what came next. Verity checked to see if the others were ready to move, and their alert faces stared back at her. She pointed to the right and slipped into the hall, moving quickly and quietly.
“Can you guys grab that armoire from my room?” A woman’s voice echoed.
Verity nearly squealed and lunged for the nearest bathroom. They piled into the dark tiled room and waited for the sound of footsteps. Through the crack in the door, she watched one of her nieces saunter past. Minutes later, two of her nephews carried the piece of furniture by.
“Father needed us out front with the truck.” One of them muttered, “Let’s take this down later.”
“Fine,” the other said.
The men breezed past again, and after a few minutes, Deane pointed at the door. Verity eased it open to glance along the hallway. She swore when she realized the piece of furniture had been set down in front of the stairwell’s access. It was the preferable route down from the second level, but maybe they could just move it aside after collecting Riley. It wasn’t too far now.
Verity led them out from their hiding place to turn left down another corridor. They moved fast, stopping to check in the rooms with open doors, ensuring no one was there to catch them creeping through until they finally reached the door she’d been looking for. Unlike the other doors, this one had a lock on the outside. She put her hand on the knob, flipped the latch and swung it open.
It was a simple room; in fact, at one time it had been Julian’s. A twin bed sat against the wall. Light from a table lamp illuminated a body lying on the comforter. Verity went inside, and Deane and Emery followed, closing the door behind them.
Riley lifted his head, wearing a scowl and quickly sat bolt upright. He had circles under his eyes, and his hair looked shaggier than usual, but he was alive.
Deane walked over to the bed and kneeled before him. “How are ye—have they hurt ye?”
The boy shook his head, seemingly in shock. He gestured at a glass of crimson liquid. “Just like Ramsay, they’re demanding I drink human blood, but there’s no way in hell they can make me—”
“Do ye know how close ye came to death, ye foolish lad?” Deane interrupted. The tendons in his neck were pulled tight. “Sometimes it’s better to live to fight another day. Your stubbornness could have taken ye away from me for good.”
“If I have anything to do with it, I won’t be losing another child. Ye hear me?” Deane hooked his arm around the boy’s shoulders, pulling him into a tight embrace.
Riley tucked his chin and nodded in silence. When he resurfaced, his eyes were red and glassy. “Thanks for coming.”
Verity went to sit beside him and rubbed his back. “We’re in this together. We couldn’t leave you with them. I wouldn’t wish my family on anyone.”
“That’s all good and fine, but shouldn’t we get ourselves out of here?” Emery asked, peering out the window. She looked downward and bit her lip. “It’s too far to jump, and there aren’t any ledges to climb on. Which means we need to get back out the way we came.”
“She’s right.” Deane rubbed his cheek and got to his feet. He cleared his throat. “Let’s get ye out of here. Marisol will be waiting for ye.”
Riley’s attention snapped up to Deane’s face. “What?”
“Aye, yer friend wanted to help bust ye out of here,” Deane answered with a bit of a smirk. “She stowed away in the trunk and refused to leave. Ye have more friends than ye thought.”
Verity stood beside Riley and remembered something. “The servant’s stairwell was blocked by the armoire.”
“We’ll move it.” Deane shrugged. “Wait here, I’ll take a look.”
He put his ear to the door before opening it and tipped his head beyond the doorframe. He stepped out and slunk down the hall the way they’d come. Verity watched from the safety of the threshold. She watched Deane peer around the corner of the corridor and straighten. He hurried back to the room and dashed inside. “There’s a bit of a gathering of sorts in the hallway. They’re going through boxes. Is there another way out of here?”
Verity sighed. “Yeah, although it’s not ideal. The grand staircase will get us down, but it’s out in the open.”