Sophia gave her a doubtful look. “Virgil?”
The female vamp smiled weakly. “It doesn’t fit, I know, but he’s loyal . . . or rather he was loyal to Berkhard. He came with him from Germany. Most of those others—” She indicated the sorry group of vamps now being shuffled into the former barracks. “—they’re locals who fell for Berkhard’s lies.”
“Was Berkhard himself here?” The possibility conflicted with all of the Intel she had on his whereabouts, which concerned her.
Fortunately, Tambra shook her head. “No, Virgil was his apostle, so to speak, spreading the gospel of Berkhard.”
“And what’s that?” Sophia asked, wanting to know what could persuade vampires, her vampires, to betray their sworn lord.
“He’s portraying himself as an enlightened lord, a modern ruler who only wants Vancouver. He says the rest of them are free to establish their own small territories, as long as they swear fealty to him. He’s comparing it to the feudal systems of old Europe. They rule their territories, and as long as they pay an annual tithe to him, they’re on their own.”
“That makes no sense,” Sophia said, puzzled. “Most of them, hell, nine out of ten of them, won’t be able to exist on their own. They’ll ending up begging Berkhard to take them back under his protection.”
“And the terms will be far worse,” Tambra agreed. “I’ve done some research on him, contacted some friends in Germany. And Berkhard’s not an enlightened despot, he’s just a despot. But there’s a lot of residual resentment around here over Lucien.”
“Lucien?” Sophia repeated in surprise. “You mean, the way he died?” She’d witnessed his death, but had nothing to do with it. He’d essentially committed suicide.
“The way he lived, my lady. He didn’t demand much of his vampires, but he didn’t give them much either. I think some of them were prepared to suffer a tyrannical lord, rather than none at all.”
Sophia cursed. What the hell did she have to do to prove she wasn’t Lucien born again? Maybe they needed this war, maybe they needed to see their own blood running in the gutters before they’d recognize that she was the one who kept their hearts beating and their lungs sucking air. It was her strength that gave them the courage to face every new night. Although, maybe this lot wasn’t so courageous after all.
She looked around the wrecked courtyard, and beyond, at the charred walls of the estate house, where blackened drapes hung in shreds from the windows.
“Someone must have let him into the compound tonight. Do you know who it was?
Tambra nodded. “Efren Lacroix.”
“The security chief? Is he still alive?”
She lifted her chin in the direction of the prisoners. “He’s over there.”
“And what about Ahmed?” Sophia asked, referring to the leader of the Calgary compound.
“Dead,” Tambra said wearily. “He tried to stop Efren, and he killed him.”
Grief stabbed Sophia, sharp and bitter. She hadn’t known Ahmed well, but he’d been a good leader, a good man, who’d served Lucien loyally for centuries. He’d deserved far better than betrayal from within.
“All right,” she said, making a decision. “There’s no point in dragging this out.” She stifled a sigh as she stood and faced the outbuilding where the rebellious vampires awaited her judgment. Most would never see morning. Their deaths would be at her hand, and on her soul. It was the lot of a vampire lord. She gave them life, but she also delivered death. “This won’t take long,” she said, glancing over at Tambra, who’d stood alongside her. “You can stay and organize the recovery, or come home with me.”
Tambra looked around. “I think I’ll stay if it’s all right, my lady.”
Sophia nodded, respecting her decision. “They can certainly use your talents, but I want you to stay in touch. Call me personally with anything you need, or if any problems arise. I have to get back to Vancouver tonight. Berkhard is still out there, still plotting. This was a feint, a test run meant to gauge our strength and response. I have a lot of work to do to be ready when he knocks on my door.
IT WAS NEARLY dawn by the time Sophia closed and secured the doors of her bedroom, safe in the vault she’d had constructed by Raphael’s own builder. They’d had to start from scratch. None of Lucien’s residences had been suitable as a headquarters, and none had anything close to the security of this sleeping vault.
As she’d done every morning since his capture, she stared at Colin’s half of the bed, his absence a physical ache in her heart that never went away. Some mornings she thought she’d finally die from the pain, that she’d never wake up again. And every night when she opened her eyes, the ache was there, waiting for her.
She took off her make-up and washed her face, finding relief in the numbness of routine. Pulling a long, silk nightgown over her head, she glanced over to verify that her cell phone was on the charger and noticed that a new message had come in from Eleanor.
Her spirits lifted, but only slightly. If Colin had been freed, she’d have known it without the need for a phone call. But hoping for good news, at least, she lifted the cell phone and listened to Eleanor’s message.
“My lady,” she began formally. Eleanor was always so proper. “I know it’s not enough yet, but we are making progress. We know where Colin is being held, and we know who has him. Lucifer is confident that it won’t be much longer. And, my lady, just in case, let me be blunt … don’t trust Darren Yamanaka. He’s in the thick of this. Sleep well, and I’ll call again tomorrow.”
Sophia stopped the voicemail recording, but didn’t delete it. She’d want to listen to it again later, when she woke for the night. Her mind would be fresher, her senses less dulled by blood and smoke.
But there was one thing she already knew for certain. Eleanor was in love. She could hear the joy, the deep contentment in her voice, the happiness in every syllable when Eleanor said Lucifer’s name. The younger vampire had reunited with her long lost lover, and Sophia couldn’t help wondering at the twist of fate which had given Eleanor back her love, at the same time that Sophia’s beloved Colin was in such jeopardy. But she’d learned long ago that fate was cruel, and those you loved most in the world could be gone in an instant.
Chapter Nine
Montreal, Quebec, Canada
“WHAT’S ON THE schedule for tonight? Did you get something from that vampire, Torres? A lead of some kind?”
Lucifer heard the frustration in Eleanor’s voice, but he didn’t have any answers for her yet. And asking him the same question over and over wasn’t going to get the answer any sooner. Partner or not, he wasn’t about to change the way he worked, and he definitely wasn’t going to leap to conclusions before the evidence was solid. So she’d have to wait.
“Lucifer.”
She said just his name, but he had to smile at all of the feelings she packed into that one word.
“Don’t you laugh at me.”
He was stretched out on the couch, where, until a few moments ago, free-floating images had been flashing quickly behind closed eyelids, as his unconscious mind made connections his conscious mind would never have seen. Unfortunately, Eleanor was a powerful distraction. Apart from her persistent questions, her presence alone made him think of hot nights and silky skin, rather than the job at hand. He wanted to take her somewhere far away from kidnapped mates and traitorous vampires, somewhere they could make love for hours, emerging from bed only long enough to feed, before diving into each other all over again.
But with every minute that passed without a clear investigative path to follow, Colin Murphy’s suffering increased. Lucifer had a duty to his lord, Aden, and an obligation to Sophia, to complete this hunt. But more than any duty or obligation, he was aware that Colin Murphy was waiting for him.
“Pace, bella,” he murmured as he sat up and opened his eyes to see he
r glaring down at him. Laughing, he pulled her onto his lap, holding her tightly despite her outraged attempts to break free.
“Don’t make me hurt you,” she growled.
He laughed even harder, which complicated his efforts to hold onto her. “Stop,” he managed to say, and received an elbow in his gut, before barely managing to save his balls from her well-placed fist. “Fuck, Elle. That’s not cool.” He wasn’t laughing any longer. Not when his balls were at stake.
She shoved him back against the couch and jumped to her feet. “Talk to me, you arrogant Italian bastard. We’re supposed to be partners in this thing.”
“I’m not the only one who loses if you take out my balls, you know.” He was genuinely offended that she’d make that play. He could understand if he was an actual threat to her, but they were lovers for fuck’s sake. Exactly. For fuck’s sake, she should have left his balls out of it.
“Aw, you want me to kiss it and make it better?”
Normally he’d have accepted that offer, but there was a gleam in her eye that told him it might not be a good move at this point. He was about to tell her what she could kiss instead, but his cell phone rang at that moment. He picked it up and saw the call he’d been waiting for.
“Impeccable timing,” he said to the caller.
“Your little vampire giving you trouble?” Bastien inquired.
“You have no idea. What’d you find out?”
“Twins, just as you suspected.”
“Damn, I’m good. What’s the brother do?”
“He works at McGill University. Archeology Department.”
“Well, that explains a hell of a lot. Thanks, Bastien. You’ll brief Aden?”
“Already done.”
“I’ll call you when we have him.”
With that confident promise, Lucifer disconnected and addressed Eleanor. “Do you want to hear what I’ve figured out? Despite your incessant nagging, I might add.”
Her gasp of outrage almost had him laughing again, but his balls wouldn’t let him. “Look, sit wherever you want, but just listen first, okay? Save your questions until you’ve heard the whole thing.”
She rolled her eyes, but gave him a muttered, “Fine,” as she settled on the chair sitting at a right angle to the couch.
Lucifer took a moment to get his thoughts organized. He considered jumping right to the suspicion which had motivated him to send Bastien a certain photograph this morning, but he knew Eleanor. She’d never settle for the big finish. She’d want to know every detail—where he’d picked up the pieces of information, how he’d put it together. So he started at the beginning.
“Okay,” he began, leaning forward on the couch, elbows on his spread thighs, hands clasped loosely between his knees. “We know they’re in the tunnels, and we know from the human who survived last night’s trap—”
“What’s his name?”
Lucifer gave her a flat stare. “I’m sure I said no questions.”
“And I’m sure you’re not the boss of me. What’s his name?”
“Who?”
“The human. The one you scanned at the house last night.”
Lucifer sighed. The man’s name didn’t really matter, but since he, or at least his twin, was about to play an important role, he told her. “Jack Anderson. May I—”
“You tend to depersonalize humans. It’s a mistake that all of you older vamps make.”
“I’ll bear that that in mind. May I finish?”
She waved a hand in agreement.
He gave her a dark look, but continued. Time was short, and they had a lot to get done tonight.
“As I was saying . . . We know from Jack’s interrogation last night that they’re in an undeveloped section of the Underground that’s not accessible to the public. That also fits with Fiona’s tattooed boyfriend, whom they wanted because he’d worked in tunnel construction.
“But one question kept coming back to me. How did they find a suitable tunnel? There are nearly 20 miles of tunnels, which is what . . . around thirty-two kilometers, with well over 100 access points. How did they know that the area they’re using even existed? Moreover, it’s perfectly suited to their needs. Maybe the walls needed some finishing, but it’s good enough to provide a lockable cell, and, while maybe it’s remote—which is a good thing from their point of view—it’s still accessible.”
“Why accessible? It’s not like they’re taking Murphy in and out all the time, not that we know, anyway. So why do they need easy access?”
“You’re right about that. I bet they haven’t moved Murphy since they sent that first video. All of the images have the same background. But at the same time, there’s no way in hell that Darren Yamanaka, or even Chase Landry, is spending all day, every day, and every night in that tunnel. Which means they’re coming and going, and they can’t be taking the public tunnels night after night, blurring every human they pass. There are too many people, and eventually someone would notice the sudden rash of memory lapses.”
“Okay, but I’m not following you. How does this lead us to Colin?”
“Someone had to help them locate that tunnel. But who? No one stood out, not in Torres’s mind, and not in Jack’s. And that was the anomaly. There were too many memories of Jack Anderson, not only in his own mind, but in Torres’s, too. Far more than any other actor, which didn’t fit. Jack was a grunt, not a main player.”
Eleanor had been watching him with growing impatience, but now she stilled, with a thoughtful look on her face. “A twin. That’s what you said to Bastien on the phone.”
“Exactly. Jack Anderson has an identical twin brother who’s a lecturer at McGill, in the Archaeology Department, Elle. Who better to know about the tunnels underneath the university? Either they’re actually hiding in some unused part of the McGill tunnels, or there’s an unknown connection between McGill and the Underground, and they’re using that.”
“When did you figure all of this out?”
Lucifer shrugged. “Last night, this morning. My brain works on stuff during the day sometimes. I can’t turn it off.”
“And the picture you sent to Bastien?”
“I snapped it last night with my cell phone and sent it to Bastien as soon as I woke up this morning. As you pointed out, I’m older than you are. I wake up sooner.”
“Huh.” Eleanor stood and walked over to him, shoving him back and sliding onto his lap. “I don’t remember you being this smart. It’s kind of sexy.”
“I was always sexy.”
“Does this mean we’re going to McGill tonight?” she asked, arching her neck to give him access.
“In a round-about way.” He licked up one side of her neck, and over her jaw, to her mouth. “I’m hoping to catch Andy—that’s the twin’s name, Andy Anderson. Too cute, right?” He licked the seam of her lips.
“By a mile,” she gasped. “Where are we going to catch him?”
Lucifer took advantage, slipping his tongue into her mouth and kissing her, their tongues twisting in a teasing dance. “He still lives with their mom. We’re going to her house.”
“Now?” she asked breathlessly.
“Not until I hear you moan my name,” he said, and slipped his hand down her unzipped pants, his fingers exploring her warm, wet opening. “My princess has a creamy pussy.” He slipped one, and then two fingers deep inside her, and began pumping. Adding a third finger, he fucked her with his fingers, stretching her with every thrust.
“Luc,” she moaned, her legs straining to spread wider against the confinement of her tight jeans, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she arched to give him greater access to her hungry sex.
Lucifer bent over and closed his mouth over her breast, sucking on the nipple he could see pushing against her T-shirt, beneath the confines of her
bra. He sucked harder until her T-shirt and bra were wet enough to show the outline of her rose-colored areola, and the hard nub of her nipple.
Eleanor was panting, each breath ending with a small, desperate cry, as his fingers fucked and his mouth sucked her delectable flesh. He waited until the greedy walls of her inner sex began to clench against his fingers, and then his thumb stroked roughly over her clit, even as he bit down hard on her swollen nipple.
Eleanor exploded into orgasm. Her pussy clamped down on his fingers, a warm, wet clasp of soft flesh that gripped ever tighter, her entire body writhing in time to the sensuous pulse of her climax. And she screamed.
Lucifer fought to hold on to her, his delicate princess who fucked like a wanton woman. He stroked his hands soothingly over her trembling body, holding her tight against his chest. His Eleanor, whom he’d thought lost forever, was safe in his arms, sated and warm.
“You bastard,” she muttered, even as she curled more deeply into his embrace.
“You didn’t like that, bella?” he asked innocently.
She punched his arm, but there was little strength and no anger to it. “I owe you one.”
He chuckled lightly. “I’ll be happy to collect.” He stood, taking her with him and setting her on her feet, grinning at her disheveled state. “But later. Right now, we have work to do.”
Eleanor nodded, and drew a shaky breath as she zipped and buttoned her jeans. She examined her T-shirt, with its wet circles outlining her still-hard nipples, then shrugged and pulled on a fleece hoodie, zipping it all the way up the front nearly to her chin.
Lucifer watched her intently, finding himself growing hard at the idea of the wet T-shirt beneath her hoodie. The T-shirt wasn’t the only thing wet, either. He raised his fingers to his mouth and licked them deliberately, seeing her eyes jump to follow the slow movement of his tongue.
“Lucifer,” she whispered.
“Ready to go, bella?” he asked.
Lucifer (Vampires in America: The Vampire Wars Book 11) Page 17
