"I expect you to be in Corpus Christi by tomorrow," Zeke snapped. "If I see you haven't moved, I'll send somebody after you. Got it?"
"Yeah. I'll be in Corpus by nightfall tomorrow."
"Good. We'll discuss a game plan when you get there."
* * *
Kid, what are we waiting for? Tony sent mindspeech to Ashe. He, Gavin and Ashe were hidden behind a forklift inside a darkened warehouse. Surrounding them were crates, boxes and supports filled with grenades, bullets, shells, rocket launchers and all sorts of weapons.
Six Elemaiya. The dark kind. With explosives bought from Rydley Huntington, Ashe replied. You take care of the Elemaiya. I'll handle the explosives.
What do you plan to do with the bodies? Tony asked.
Send them back where they came from, Ashe's mental voice was grim. It'll cause trouble down the road, but it could mean bigger trouble in the interim.
That's very comforting, Tony's response was sarcastic.
You used to do this kind of crap for a living. Vampirism has definitely gone to your head.
Don't get smart with me.
Then get smart with yourself. Look around you. What will this do if we let it happen? The nation goes on lockdown, people start looking for terrorists under their beds and wars start. End of story.
Kid, the vamps generally stay out of human affairs.
Except for those who work for Matt Michaels. Or the ones Wlodek has stashed here and there around the globe, so he can keep his fingers in every pie. Except for those, you mean?
Kid, watch your mouth.
Get ready, Ashe warned, just as six Elemaiya appeared inside the warehouse.
* * *
"What the hell?" Winkler and Trajan were drinking their sodas on the deck and watching the waves roll in under a waning moon when Winkler received the text from an unknown source.
Hello, Mr. Winkler, the message began. My name is Peyton Miller. I've been working for Zeke Tanner in Mexico for more than twenty years. I've managed to get away from him, but he'll be hunting me, soon. He's hunting you, too. I'd like to meet with you and share information, in exchange for protection. Trajan was beside Winkler's chair quickly and reading over Winkler's shoulder.
"What the hell?" Trajan repeated Winkler's confused statement.
* * *
Peyton ground the cell Zeke Tanner had given him under his heel, destroying it as best he could. He'd just purchased another cell at a discount store and used it to contact William Winkler. He'd gotten Winkler's number from Zeke, who'd gotten it from another source. It didn't matter now—Peyton's life hung in the balance, and he'd prefer a quicker death from the Grand Master than what he'd likely get from Zeke and his trackers. No matter what happened, Peyton would be traveling to Corpus Christi. If Winkler agreed to meet with him, whether to kill him or listen to what he had to say, he no longer cared. Peyton was tired of the drugs and the killings.
* * *
Gavin Montegue, ancient vampire that he was, had never seen anything like this. Ashe, holding out a hand, had caused knapsacks filled with explosives to disintegrate and float away as harmless sparks. Six headless bodies littered the concrete floor of the base warehouse—Gavin and Tony had seen to that. Ashe now contemplated the bodies while a wave of nausea hit him.
"Kid, don't get sick. I hate that smell," Tony whined.
"I'll be fine," Ashe rasped, drawing in a shaky breath. "I just have to get it out of my mind before I send them back to Baltis."
"Baltis?"
"King of the Dark Elemaiya. He was doing this in retaliation for his brother's death in Chicago."
"One of those Matt Michaels and a few vamps took out?"
"Yeah. Baltis doesn't have much recourse against the vamps—and he's scared witless of you guys anyway. You move too fast. Humans, though, he doesn't mind killing because he's gotten away with it too many times."
"Young one, might we move faster? Anthony, stop distracting him," Gavin muttered.
"Gotcha," Ashe mumbled, holding out a hand again. The six bodies, with their heads, disappeared. "Now, all we have to do is clean up the blood and any evidence that we were here and we're good."
* * *
"We have to move swiftly." Wildrif was pulling off his clothing while one of two werewolves dressed a mangled, unrecognizable shapeshifter in Wildrif's discarded clothing. Wildrif had more clothing brought by the werewolves, but he'd just had a vision of six headless bodies appearing at Baltis' feet back in the camp. Wildrif's life would be worthless if Baltis found him again.
It didn't matter; Wildrif still had his contacts with the Bright Queen, and she was more than willing to listen. Zeke Tanner, too, would be putty in his hands. Wildrif had spent years building trust with both, and they would willingly listen to anything he suggested. Things were falling into place surprisingly well. Who cared if the Earth was destroyed, as long as Wildrif's revenge could be served?
* * *
Baltis' rage could not be contained. Ruin had contacted Raze, who as yet didn't realize what had happened. Six bodies and their disconnected heads lay at Baltis' feet, and he had already destroyed the tent and most of his belongings. Dark Elemaiya fled from Baltis' wrath, as he pulled energy from his crown to blast the sands beneath his feet.
Chapter 8
"Hello, Rydley. Didn't expect us, did you?" Tony grinned at Rydley Huntington. The house in Atlanta where Ashe had taken Gavin and Tony was quite large. Rydley had employed compulsion to convince the wealthy owner to allow him access to his home and his extensive bank account. Explosives filled the six-car garage, too, forcing the human occupant to leave his expensive automobiles parked in the driveway.
"What the?" Rydley didn't get to finish his question; Gavin held him by the throat. "You will be still and answer questions. No other words will pass your lips." Gavin's eyes were red and the tips of his fangs showed as he placed a mind-bending compulsion on three-hundred-year-old Rydley. Rydley could only nod his compliance; Gavin held his throat too tightly.
What about the human? Ashe asked.
The compulsion will die when Rydley does, Tony said.
That's not scary or anything, Ashe replied.
Kid, don't say scary to me. I have a whole new respect for you, now.
"Hmmph," Ashe responded aloud and crossed arms over his chest.
"Shhh," Tony whispered.
Ashe watched as Gavin questioned Rydley Huntington about his dealings in arms, who he'd sold to and what, which humans had died and which he still did business with. The list was long. Ashe listened with interest.
* * *
"You weren't gone as long as I thought you might be," Winkler remarked as Ashe wandered into the kitchen at noon the following day.
"Mr. Winkler, have you ever seen a vampire die?" Ashe opened the fridge and stared at its contents absently.
"Yeah. Several times. Killed a few of 'em myself. Why do you ask?"
"They just turn to ash. Dust. Whatever." Ashe shrugged.
"Yep. You can clean up an entire vamp with a hand vacuum." Winkler sipped the cup of coffee in front of him—he'd made a pot for himself.
"That's funny. And not funny. At the same time," Ashe hauled the milk jug from the fridge and pulled a tall glass from a cabinet. "Where's grumpy?"
"Grumpy?"
"Craig."
"Oh. Sent him to Amarillo this morning after breakfast. Grand Master needed help cleaning out the Amarillo Pack. Nick Robbins is no more."
"Too bad. He was involved in a lot of crime. Inadvertently sometimes, through Josiah Dunnigan. Didn't argue when he got paid, though."
"Weldon never did trust him. Nick tried to take down the Grand Master last night. Obviously that was a mistake."
"Yep."
"Kid?"
"What, Mr. Winkler?" Ashe gulped half a glass of milk quickly.
"Know anything about Peyton Miller?"
"He contact you?"
"Yeah."
"You should hire him."
"What
?"
"He's mighty tired of Zeke Tanner. Might be willing to help fight off what Zeke sends our way."
"Kid, I've already talked with the Grand Master. He wants to question Peyton before executing him. This'll throw a wrench in the works." Winkler shook his head, his dark eyes focused on Ashe.
"I just saved the Grand Master's posterior. Maybe he'll cut me some slack on this." Ashe drained his glass of milk. "Who are you getting to replace Craig? Good move, by the way. He was prejudiced up to his eyeballs."
"I hired Amos and Florence Thompson this morning. She'll cook, and he'll help guard during the day."
"Another good choice. Mr. Thompson is cool."
"It's not every day you meet a white buffalo shapeshifter," Winkler flashed a grin. "They're even rarer as shifters. Almost as rare as unicorns and bumblebee bats."
"Don't dis the bat, man."
"Not dissing the bat," Winkler laughed.
"Who's dissing the bat?" Trace walked in and ruffled Ashe's hair with a large hand.
"Everybody," Ashe ducked his head to hide a half-grin.
"Heard you got into it last night," Trajan slouched into the kitchen and went straight to the coffeepot.
"Gavin and Tony, well," Ashe shook his head. He still found it difficult to believe how fast they'd moved. Six heads had been removed before Ashe could blink twice. And then there was so much blood—blood he'd had to destroy by turning it to sparks. If it hadn't been important to return the bodies to the Dark King, he'd have done the same with them. He found it nauseating to look at them afterward. Sighing, Ashe worked to get the visions out of his head.
"Kid, it's the nature of what we are. What the vamps are. And the way I hear it, those six were prepared to destroy Fort Arland. How many others would have died if they'd succeeded in their plan?"
"I tried to send a message to the Dark King. Tried to tell him his revenge against the humans is useless. He may choose another target to go after," Ashe muttered, pulling out a barstool at the island and sitting down. "Displacement."
"You mean choosing someone else to vent your anger on?" Winkler lifted an eyebrow while he sipped coffee.
"Yeah. Guess you had a chat with Gavin and Tony after we got back last night."
"It wasn't even one o'clock when you got back. Tony said it was the fastest they'd ever gotten anybody."
"I hope he doesn't expect that every time," Ashe replied, rising and going back to the fridge. "Anybody else want scrambled eggs?"
* * *
"Why can't the teachers get together and stagger homework assignments?" Dori was already complaining about the assigned paper in English, the math homework and the research required for a history exam. She and Wynn sat at a table in the new school cafeteria. She could see Adele Evans behind the serving line, talking with the two shapeshifter women serving lunch to the students.
"Our school is getting smaller," Wynn remarked, ignoring Dori's complaint. "We only have sixty-two students this year."
"There isn't a first or second-grade class," Dori agreed, watching as students went through the line to get trays of food. "You don't think the shifters and werewolves are dying out, do you?"
"You know," Wynn pointed her unwrapped straw at Dori before dropping it into her milk carton, "that sounds like a good essay to research and write at the end of the year."
"You think we can find that out? You think there's information out there?"
"I think Principal Wright might know a lot."
"You think he'll talk to us?"
"He might."
* * *
"I didn't expect to get visitors this soon." Bear Wright smiled at Wynn and Dori. His empty lunch tray lay before him—he'd eaten at his desk in order to get paperwork done during the meal break.
"We just had a thought," Wynn began. "When we were at lunch, talking about how there's no first or second-graders this year."
"And we were wondering if this is a problem everywhere, and not just here, in Star Cove," Dori added. "And we thought it might be a good topic to research for the end of school essay."
"That's very insightful," Bear nodded. "And it's something that I've done research on, too."
"What did you find out?" Wynn asked breathlessly.
"I'm afraid numbers are dwindling," Bear sighed, leaning back in his chair. Unlike Principal Billings', Bear's office chair was more modern and cloth-covered. It didn't creak when he moved. "That's one of the topics I wanted to discuss with the shifters who are coming to visit this weekend. Just to see if they've noticed it, too, and have any ideas," the Principal sighed. "Do your research, girls. I'll accept a joint paper at the end of school if you work on it together."
"Really? You'll let us do that?" Wynn clapped her hands and bounced in her seat.
"Sure. It's a weighty topic and deserves as much work as you both can put into it."
"Thank you so much, Mr. Wright," Dori smiled. "This will be so awesome."
* * *
"Ashe? This is Wynn."
"Wynnie, I'd know your voice anywhere." Ashe left his cell on the island while he ate scrambled eggs and bacon. "What do you need?"
"We might need help doing research. Dori and me."
Ashe grinned and didn't correct Wynn's English. "What's the project?" he asked instead.
"We noticed that there aren't any first or second-graders, and thought it might be a good topic to research for our end-of-year essay. We asked Principal Wright about it, since he might know something. He said the numbers are dwindling, and he's willing to let Dori and me do a paper together."
"That's outstanding, Wynn. I warn you, though, if I give you information, a lot of it may not have concrete evidence to back it up."
"It won't be true?" Wynn sounded troubled.
"It'll be true, I just can't back it up with physical proof, that's all. Some people might question its veracity, because of that." Ashe wiped his hands on a napkin and lifted his second glass of milk to take a drink.
"Ashe?"
"What, Wynn?"
"Who uses words like veracity?" Wynn teased.
"Wynn, I haven't heard you tease in a while. It's kind of nice," Ashe grinned.
"Yeah. Ace likes it, too."
"I imagine he does. I also imagine he thinks he won the lottery—like every time he looks at you."
"Ashe, stop it." Ashe's grin widened—he knew Wynn was blushing.
"How's Sali?" Ashe asked, switching topics.
"He sits by himself in class. I'm not sure he talks to anybody. Larry and Jeff only talk with each other. Everybody misses Hayes."
"Hayes was an omega. He knew instinctively how to calm people and keep them happy."
"A brave omega."
"Yeah. Look, Wynn, keep an eye on Sal for me. Discreetly. If things look like they're not going so good, will you let me know?"
"Can I ask Dori to help?"
"If she can keep it to herself."
"I'll tell her that. I don't know what to do, Ashe. I know school just started and all, but it seems so different. Like we've set our feet on a path we can't change, and the destination may not be what anybody planned."
"You're a real unicorn, Wynnie."
"What does that mean?"
"It means you're special. In a very good way. You have insights that others don't, sometimes."
"Ashe, stop making me blush. It's embarrassing. I have to get back to class."
"I know. Have fun." Ashe ended the call with a sigh. Less than thirty seconds went by when he received mindspeech from Dori.
Ashe?
Dori?
Sali only ate half his lunch.
That's a problem.
Yeah. He's moping, too. Like the world ended and he didn't participate.
Interesting concept, Dori.
Well, it's like something big happened, and he wasn't a part of it. Because he's too dumb.
Dori, Sali isn't dumb. He's smarter than people think. He just makes bad choices now and then.
Then he needs to sto
p playing dumb. And he needs to wise up.
That's redundant, Dori.
I guess it is, huh?
Yeah. Did you talk to Wynn already?
Yeah. Ever since Sali and I broke up and you stopped talking to him and Marcus grounded him and took his keys away, he won't talk to anybody. Now he's not eating. Sali always eats.
Agreed. Does he go home right after school?
He has to. His mom is waiting at the door to make sure the grounding is enforced.
Good to know. Don't you think you ought to pay attention in English, instead of sending mindspeech? Ashe added a mental chuckle to his words.
Fine, Dori's reply was falsely grumpy.
* * *
Sali walked past his mother, who stood at the front door of the DeLuca home, waiting for her youngest to arrive.
"Straight from school, as commanded," Sali muttered as he headed for the hallway leading to his bedroom.
"Want a snack?" Denise DeLuca called out. Sali didn't reply.
Sali cursed softly as he turned the knob to enter his bedroom. His stomach growled, but he wasn't going to let his mother know it was also tied in knots. Everything was wrong with his life. Everything. How many times had Marco gotten away with stuff Sali always got grounded for? How many times had Marco flouted Marcus' commands and driven away from Cloud Chief in a huff? It was always Marco this and Marco that. Marco now worked for Mr. Winkler, probably the most wealthy and successful werewolf in the U.S. Nobody thought much of Salidar DeLuca. He'd just be a minion in a Pack someday.
Sali walked into his bedroom with a sigh, shut it behind him and leaned against it, his eyes closed.
"Dude, want a burger?" Sali's eyes popped open in shock. Ashe sat on his rumpled bed, waving a sack full of Dandee Burgers' food at him. The scent of hamburgers and fries hit his sensitive nose like a blow.
* * *
"He's reading in his bedroom, I peeked," Trajan informed Winkler, who'd asked where Ashe was.
"Andy has something Ashe needs to look at when he comes down for dinner. Loren caught a discrepancy and we need the kid's help."
"He ought to be sleeping, in case the vamps have other business tonight."
Legend of the Ir'Indicti 5 - Destroyer Page 9
