Books 1 & 2 of Connor and Sami: Operation Underworld Trilogy

by Carly Fall

  He took a long pull of his beer. “Well, this sounds like something you and your police force should handle, Sami. I think that would be best. You have the resources to take them down.”

  She lowered her gaze back to the unopened bottle in her grasp. “About that …”

  He sat back on the couch, the hairs on the back of his neck tingling. He didn’t like the sound of that.

  Please don’t let this be another lie.

  He hoped like hell it wouldn’t be, but his gut told him otherwise. He took a deep breath and tried to prepare himself.

  “What?”

  “I’m … I’m not with the police. There’s no such thing.”

  He stared at her in disbelief, despite expecting something like this. What had she told the truth about? Right now, it was the one truth he needed; that they both needed. He gripped the beer bottle tighter in anger as he realized she’d lied to him once again.

  “You’re shitting me, right?” he asked, his skin heating with irritation and growing prickly.

  She shook her head.

  He set his beer down and rubbed his face. Could this night get any worse? Hell, could this week?

  Standing, he began to pace, sheer anger fully replacing his incredulity. He wanted to put his fist through the wall and smash the television as his whole body vibrated with fury.

  “Why the hell are you out there hunting this group of vampires?”

  The anger had bled through to his voice, and he heard it as he yelled at her, which he knew he shouldn’t do. However, he’d put up with a lot of crap the past few days trying to help her, and he felt he deserved an explanation.

  She refused to meet his gaze. “Because they killed my father.”

  Her voice came out just above a whisper, and her reasoning calmed him down just a bit. “How do you know that?”

  A lone tear tracked down her cheek. “My father was a human cop. Because he was married to my mother, who is half-vampire, he had a pulse on our world. He noticed the uptick of humans missing in Los Angeles and the surrounding areas, but he couldn’t bring up his suspicions to his superiors. They’d think he was crazy. So, he started investigating during his off-time.”

  “Why would his superiors think he was crazy?”

  “Because this is Los Angeles. People come and go all the time. They come in from everywhere to make it into the entertainment industry, and a lot of them end up leaving. It’s a transient place. A lot of people don’t stick around for long.”

  It was true. He’d been here about six months before he had bailed.

  “Why did he think vampires were responsible for the missing people?” he asked.

  “A few bodies showed up in the hills, and he caught the cases. They were pretty torn up, but he recognized a vampire bite when he saw one. The authorities chalked it up to wildlife getting a hold of campers or hikers, but my father didn’t quite believe it. After all, he lived with a vampire.”

  As he stared at her and the layers of lies began to fall away to reveal the truth, his life seemed to be spinning out of control yet again. He’d felt this way three times in the past year. The first time had been in the Guatemalan jungle before the explosion; the second, when he’d awakened in the hospital; the third, when Joe had ushered him to Dedou’s house in New Orleans. How he longed just to find some solid ground instead of floating around and wondering who he could trust, beside himself.

  “So, what happened?” he bit out, forcing himself to keep his voice level.

  “The vampires who run that blood ring found out about him, and they took him while he was on patrol. They kept him for two days, and didn’t even try to hide what had happened to him. They left him on our front porch, naked and almost dead.”

  Fuck. He ran his palm over his head. He had pity for her, but he hated the lies that had got him to this point of finally hearing the truth. But would he have aligned himself with her if he hadn’t thought she had the vampire police force behind her? In all honesty, probably not, yet, he had to know the rest of the story.

  “Did you take him to the hospital?”

  She shook her head. “No. He wouldn’t let us. He knew he was going to die, and he wanted to tell us everything so we could find someone to help us take the vampires down.”

  “And who did you get to help you?”

  She stared down at her hands again. “No one. I decided I would find the assholes that had done that to my father by myself and bring them to justice.”

  He stared at her in disbelief, but it all made sense. She had thought it would be smart to go after her father’s murderers alone, but then she’d realized she was completely out of her league. Hell, she wasn’t even playing on the same field. She was in the little league playing against the pros.

  Then, by circumstance, she realized he could be a benefit to her. He could see vampires where she couldn’t, and he had military training. Throw in the blood and the quick fuck, and there were bonuses all around for her. Or, maybe she’d used the sex to keep him in line, to keep him close.

  It didn’t matter because no matter how he looked at the scenario, his anger only grew.

  He’d been used.

  “When I saw what was happening in that building … what my father had been through … it made everything worse.”

  Yeah, her story sucked, and it must have been hard for her to see what her father had experienced, but the anger still overrode any sympathy he could drum up.

  “He said they never put him in a trance. He felt everything. I can’t imagine …”

  The tears started again, but his sympathy meter ran at a hard zero. He wanted her gone, out of his life, and he never wanted to lay his eyes on her again. If he could remove the part of his brain that held the memory of Sami, he’d sign up for the operation in a heartbeat. His patience was gone, no matter how sad a story she told. She’d put his life on the line to further her own agenda, and he didn’t like it one bit.

  “Get out.”

  She gazed up at him, her dark eyes watery. “Please, Connor. Don’t do this.”

  He walked over to her, his hands in fists, his body vibrating with anger. “You used me, and you lied to me, and I’m not sure which one pisses me off more. Get the fuck out of my apartment and my life right now. ”

  Turning, he went into the kitchen to retrieve another beer. He opened it with shaky hands, then leaned against the counter and waited for her to go.

  Her voice came from directly behind him. “Connor, that’s not true.”

  Setting the bottle on the counter, he glared at her. “Sure it is. From the second you saw me standing in line at that club, it was all about using me to get close to the vampires. Then, when you realized my ability, it was better for you to keep me close because you could use me in your chase.”

  “Connor—”

  “Are you denying it?”

  She stared at him a beat too long, and he knew the truth. Every word he’d just said was fact, and he had to admit, it hurt. Bad.

  He hated that he’d been so blinded by her, hated that he hadn’t seen through her story. As hindsight was always twenty-twenty, all the holes in the fabrication of her life were now glaringly apparent.

  “Connor, yes, at first, it was about using you, but things changed between us.”

  He shook his head incredulously. Was he really supposed to buy this? “Really? When? Was it when you fucked me to keep me close, or was it when you told me it never should have happened? When, exactly, did things change?’

  She stared down at the rug, and he tried to feel bad for this argument and understand her point of view, but he couldn’t. His feelings had been hurt because he’d really grown attracted to Sami, but he certainly wouldn’t throw that out. He’d tuck away his bruised ego for now and he’d lick his wounds when he was by himself.

  “I’ll go,” she murmured, walking toward the door.

  He pulled her car keys from his pocket. “Don’t forget your keys, and make sure you have your phone. I never want to see you a
gain.”

  She took them from his hand without meeting his gaze and left, the click of the door seeming like a cannon to his ears.

  Grabbing his beer, he paced the small living room feeling as though the walls were closing in.

  After a few minutes, he sat down on the couch and flipped on the TV. As he scrolled through the wasteland that was late-night television, he took some deep breaths and began to calm a bit. Yes, he’d been played, but he’d come out the other side unscathed, when in reality, he could have easily been killed. He’d believed her to be experienced, but instead, he’d paired up with an amateur.

  The reality was that he still had work that needed to be done, and he needed to push any thoughts of Sami aside. He didn’t need anger clouding his judgment.

  An hour later, a solid idea had formed in his mind. He turned off the television and stretched out on the couch, preferring to avoid his bed so he didn’t have to smell Sami’s earthy scent. Picking up his phone, he deleted her contact information, erasing her from his life.

  He didn’t bother to remove his clothing or boots. He had to be up in a few hours to get his plan rolling.

  23

  She better answer this time.

  He’d been trying to reach Harper at Operation Underworld for a couple of hours, but the line had been busy.

  “Goddess of the Darknet speaking. How may I shower you with my awesomeness?”

  He sighed. Finally. “Hey, Harper. It’s Connor.”

  “Who?”

  “Connor. Connor Dickson. I work for Operation Underworld. You told me to call you if I needed anything.”

  A brief silence ensued, and he heard the clicking of a keyboard.

  “Oh, yes! I remember you. The guy who doesn’t read anything. Okay, what’s up?”

  She still talked a million miles per hour, and he couldn’t help but grin and wonder if she ever slept.

  “I need some information, and then I need some help getting some supplies.”

  “You’ve called the right place, handsome. What do you want to know?”

  He’d spent a couple hours this morning scrolling around Google Maps trying to find that building out in the middle of desert outside of Barstow. Finally, he’d located it and written down the coordinates.

  “I need to know who, if anyone, owns the building at the coordinates I have.”

  “Easy peesy, pumpkin pie. Give them to me.”

  He did, and then she told him to wait. A loud thump met his ears, and he guessed she’d dropped the phone on the desk.

  As he stared at the black screen of the television, he heard her softly talking to herself, but couldn’t make out what she said above the clicking of fingers on a keyboard.

  About five minutes passed, and she picked up the phone. “It’s owned by Selene Ambrogio.”

  He furrowed his brow, trying to remember where he’d heard the name. Selene Ambrogio.

  “What else do you need?” Harper asked.

  “Hang on a second.”

  He didn’t wait for her to agree or disagree, but set the phone down.

  Where he knew the name from sat right on his frontal lobe, but he couldn’t seem to bring it forward. Maybe it was lack of sleep, or the fact that he had so many other things on his mind, but he knew this.

  With a string of curses, he walked into the bedroom and looked around, trying to block out all other thoughts, especially the one where Sami had lain in his bed and drunk his blood.

  Blood. That was it. He kicked around some clothes and found the small, leather-bound book.

  Flipping it open, it all came back to him.

  Ambrogio and Selene, the first vampires.

  Selene Ambrogio owned the building. Sami had given him this book. He didn’t believe in synchronicity this big, but he also didn’t think Sami had anything to do with the horror going on in there. She’d given it to him for a reason, but what that was, he didn’t know, nor did he give a shit about her motives.

  He walked back into the living room and picked up the phone, half expecting to hear silence on the other end. Instead, light humming met his ears along with the sounds from the keyboard.

  “Harper?”

  “Yep.”

  “I’ve got my list.”

  She sighed. “Do you think I can just sit around all day and wait around for you? I’m a very busy person.”

  “I’m sorry about that.”

  “You should be, and I accept your weak apology. Now tell me what you need.”

  As he recited the items he wanted, a bit of excitement buzzed through him. Once he’d completed his job, he’d get out of this damn town and leave behind everyone in it, and eventually, his memories of Sami would fade away.

  “So, I’m going to assume this is for business, and not pleasure?” Harper asked when he finished. “Because if it’s pleasure, you’ve got some serious issues you need to address.”

  He wouldn’t argue with that, but he was done with pleasure for the time being.

  “It’s pure business. I’m going to blow some shit up.”

  24

  It took two days for Harper to get everything together and find a good, remote location to pick everything up.

  While he waited, he was able to locate the group of vampires one night at a club and carefully tail them. They never loaded anyone onto a truck, so apparently, their little side business didn’t happen seven days a week. To his relief, the vampires didn’t venture outside Los Angeles and seemed to be having a great time just partying it up. He couldn’t take them on by himself in hand-to-hand combat, but when he got his supplies, he’d take them down before they even knew what hit them.

  When Harper had let him know that his materials had arrived and the address to grab them from, he’d headed right out and rented a windowless, black van—one of those that mothers told their daughters to stay away from in parking lots because serial rapists used them to kidnap their prey. Once he’d loaded everything up, he’d driven back to his apartment and waited until nightfall to unload it. He’d guessed management wouldn’t take too kindly to him hauling in night vision goggles, a bullet-proof vest, ultraviolet light flashlights, and—oh, yeah—bomb-making materials.

  As he assembled his bombs at his kitchen table, he whistled softly to himself. He realized he felt more relaxed getting ready to blow something up than he had in the year he’d been hunting vampires. While in the Marines, he’d had extensive training in explosives, and oftentimes found himself more comfortable surrounded by the dangerous devices than by people. To him, bombs were pretty cut and dry. They were either going to hurt you or kill you, or you disabled them. There was no gray area, no feelings to be hurt, no bullshit to wade through. Really very simple, just the way he liked things.

  Sami had complicated his life more than he’d ever expect anyone to be able to. The lies and the deceit really grated on him, but he’d have to push past that. By this time tomorrow, he’d hopefully have his assignment completed, and he’d be on a plane back to New Orleans. Although he’d had his reservations at first, he had to admit that it felt good to belong to an organization that understood his ability and appreciated it. They stood behind him and gave him important work. Hopefully, within the next twenty-four hours, he would be destroying a bunch of murderers.

  He thought about the owner of the butcher building out in the middle of the desert. Selene Ambrogio. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out how Sami fit into this, but his gut told him her involvement wasn’t nefarious. He couldn’t doubt the tears at the building and deep pain in her eyes as she’d told him about her father’s death—unless she’d put on an Oscar-worthy performance. He wouldn’t put it past her.

  He’d been so stupid going along with all her silly plans. But, really, in the end, he had no one to blame but himself. She was beautiful, and he’d been attracted to her. It had clouded his judgment, and that was the thing that hurt the worst. Damn, he’d even gotten highlights in his hair for her. What type of idiot did that? A whipped one, that’
s who. He’d been duped and used, and he should have seen it coming from a hundred miles away, but he’d been too happy with his blinders on.

  In the end, he’d channel all his anger and hurt into decimating a house of horrors.

  25

  The next day, Connor trudged through the sagebrush around the empty, old wooden building without concern of being seen or found out. Most vampires baked in the sun, depending on how much vampire DNA they had floating through their veins. If he were a betting man, he’d lay down a boatload of money that the bastards in charge of this sick shit, as well as their customers, were pretty pure.

  The sun shone high in the sky, warming his back. The stench of rotting meat made his eyes water, but he tried not to think of the cause.

  After a quick surveillance of the area, he had a good idea of where to plant the explosives. He didn’t dare go inside because he didn’t know if they had their own set up of trip wires and explosives, and he wasn’t going to find out. Besides, he could blow this place sky-high without any problem by placing the bombs on the outside.

  He spent the next few hours running the wire and planting the detonation chargers. Once everything was in place and he felt certain the explosion would happen without a glitch, he went back to the van and ate the lunch he’d brought with him—a turkey sandwich, potato chips, and a bottle of water. He’d also packed some nuts and peanut butter and crackers, as well as more water. It could be a long night, and he needed to stay hydrated and have fuel to keep him going for the fight that was sure to come.

  After completing his lunch, he drove van about a half-mile away and parked it. Getting out, he looked back toward the building. He had a clear view of it, and felt certain he couldn’t be seen, as the sagebrush and cacti almost obscured the van.

  He climbed onto the hood and stretched out against the windshield, figuring the temperature at about seventy-two. As the sun warmed his face and body, he closed his eyes and concentrated on relaxing. He had a long night ahead of him, and he couldn’t be expending energy with worry or nervousness.