Blood Judgment (Judgment Series)

by Nickie Asher

  He ran after his companions.

  Julian checked his watch and set the timer on the next bundle of explosives for nine minutes. He put the bomb on the floor, not bothering to hide it.

  He slung the pack on his back and grabbed Saranna’s hand. Dragging her with him, he rocketed out of the room and raced back the way they had come.

  “What are you doing? We need to get out of here!” Saranna pulled back hard.

  The freed males stood fidgeting at the elevator, waiting for a car.

  “Almost done. I have to do this.” He stopped, dropped the pack, and slipped the appropriated cell phone from his back pocket. “Wait here. You don’t want to see this.”

  “What?”

  “Wait for me. Trust me on this.” He didn’t give her time to argue. He went to the observation window at the steel door and clicked on the video. This was too important. And he had to do the right thing. The youngster sprang forward, growling, saliva flying from his mouth. He crashed into the door.

  Saranna stifled a cry.

  He kept recording as the juvenile attacked again, eyes vacant, mouth open, wanting to bite.

  The video winked out as the last of the battery gave up and kicked it.

  The juvenile fell to the floor in a whimpering heap and lifted his gaze to Julian’s in a moment that looked like near lucidity. Shit. Better he was raving and out of it for what Julian had to do next.

  He stuffed the phone in his pocket and pulled the gun from his waistband. He hoped to God the place was as soundproofed as it was supposed to be. Not one sound from the garage came through. If they heard him, he and Saranna would be in the middle of a shit-storm. And they might not make it out.

  Saranna gasped.

  He aimed through the observation window.

  The elevator dinged as the car arrived.

  The youngster’s eyes bore into his. Unflinching. Jesus, was he aware?

  Something like peace settled over the juvenile’s bruised features. He closed his eyes.

  Oh God. He knew. Julian swallowed hard and squeezed the trigger once, twice. Double tap, just as Ashton had taught him.

  He stuffed the gun in his waistband and pulled the last explosive from the backpack. He checked his watch and set the timer for six minutes. He set it on the floor and grabbed Saranna. “Six minutes. Run.”

  His heart thundered, his body spring tight. They had five minutes or less to get out before hell came calling.

  They reached the door to the garage. “Stay as tight to me as you can. We’re probably going to be shot at. We’ll try to play it cool and walk to the van. But I don’t think we’ll make it without fighting our way out.”

  He cursed himself for forgetting the Kevlar when he’d dressed. He would have given it to Saranna.

  He wasn’t afraid of being shot. Unless it was a direct head or heart wound, it shouldn’t kill him. And the chances of hitting the head or heart of a running target were pretty slim. But if Saranna was hit in the stomach…

  She nodded and grabbed his arm. “What if they have darts?”

  That was what he feared more than anything. “I bet they don’t pack those around. They don’t expect vampires to be strolling around free. I’m hoping they get those when they’re ready to go out patrolling.” He sure as hell hoped that was the case because he was betting their lives on it.

  “Ready?”

  She nodded.

  He opened the door.

  A half dozen men milled around in the parking area, but no one paid them any attention.

  He walked casually, steering her toward the van with the keys clenched in his fist.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  Heart pounding, Julian stopped. Saranna crowded close to him.

  A large man stood by a plywood cube in the rear corner, eyes glued on them. Julian’s stomach plummeted with recognition at the same time the man’s face contorted. Lucas, the bastard whose arm he’d broken when he’d been processed.

  “Stop them,” Lucas brayed. “He’s a vampire.”

  Julian’s left hand snaked out and drew her tight against him. His right hand emerged from under his jacket, gun ready.

  “Run!” He shoved her ahead of him.

  Gunfire cracked behind them. He whipped around and dropped into a crouch while Saranna ran for the cover of the van. He fired at Lucas and made a direct hit.

  Lucas toppled and Julian snarled.

  He pivoted and fired three rounds at two men sneaking up along the side of him. One fell, but the other leaped behind a stack of crates and fired a volley at Julian.

  A bullet tore into his shoulder and he yelped, though he managed to stay on his feet. “Fuck.”

  A second round struck him below the ribs and he went down hard. The impact sent pain through his body. His arm was numb while his shoulder and side were on fire.

  “Julian,” Saranna screamed from behind the van.

  Sucking his breath in with a pained whistle, he scrambled onto his feet and ran flat out on unsteady, rubbery legs.

  Shots ricocheted, but none struck him. He whirled and lifted the gun in a shaking, double-handed grip. His shoulder was agony as he fired back.

  Another shot cracked and white-hot pain tore through his right bicep. The gun dropped from his numb fingers. Out of options, he ran with everything he had left.

  An alarm screamed from overhead. The other males must have hit the lobby. At least some of them would make it out.

  He reached the van and ripped the door open. “Get in. Hurry.” He pulled himself behind the steering wheel.

  She leapt inside and he shoved her down onto the floorboard. “Stay there.”

  He keyed the ignition. Down to seconds, had to be. His heart thundered.

  A chill swept over his skin and his sweat-slicked body shivered. No time for pulling himself together.

  “Are you okay?” Saranna asked, terror in her voice.

  He nodded. “Hold on. I’m getting us out of here.”

  He hadn’t allowed enough time… Seconds left. How many?

  Another volley of shots rang out and he shifted into drive as bullets pinged into the side of the van.

  He tore out with squalling tires.

  Two men stood in his path, aiming at the windshield. He stomped the gas. “Hold onto something. I’m going to ram the door.”

  After I run these two fuckers down.

  But the men dove away from the roaring van, their shots going wild.

  Saranna grabbed onto the seat. The impact was sudden and hard, throwing her under the dash as the van ripped through the garage door. Julian gunned up the driveway. Out of time, out of time, the thought raced through his panicked mind.

  Hell exploded behind them. Heat filled the vehicle.

  Saranna screamed.

  A second later, another explosion rocked them and then the third. Debris rained down around them. In the rearview mirror, he could see the building was already consumed with flames.

  Had anyone radioed out the van’s ID before the explosion? If not, they were home free. He couldn’t count on any luck though. There had been long seconds before the first detonation. Plenty of time for an alert to go out.

  Julian gripped the wheel. “Are you alright?”

  “Yes.” She crawled up into the seat. “Oh, my God, you’re bleeding a lot.” Her hands were on him in an instant, probing his wounds.

  “The one in my arm isn’t too bad.” The wounds in his shoulder and side were more serious. The burning craters bled profusely.

  “See if you can find something to stop the bleeding.” He was already lightheaded from pain.

  Saranna looked into the back. “Jesus! Julian, there’s a dead man back there.”

  “The driver.”

  She nodded, reached into the back, and fished out a thin jacket. With some effort, she tore off a long strip, folded it, and held the pad to his shoulder.

  He sucked in his breath with a hiss.

  “Sorry. I know it hurts.”
/>   “Yeah, a little.” He pressed the gas, driving as fast as he dared. He shook his head, trying to clear the fog closing over him. “Do you know how to drive?” It had never occurred to him to ask before.

  “No. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” She was still too loopy from whatever they’d given her anyway. He hung a hard right and pulled over. “I’m dizzy. I have to wait for it to pass.” He shivered. His shirt was soaked with blood, chilling his skin.

  She nodded and increased the pressure on the pad covering the wound.

  He glanced in the mirrors, expecting to see other vans in pursuit. There weren’t any. Not yet. Maybe they’d got away clean.

  He looked at her. Now that it was too late, he could admit the truth. He loved her. He had to save her, no matter what.

  “If they catch up to us, I’ll hold them off as long as I can and I want you to run like hell.” If she didn’t, they would kill her. He didn’t doubt it for one second.

  “Julian, no! I can’t leave you behind.”

  “You have to. You’re carrying our baby. You have to save him. Even if I die.” And he was going to die. He was bleeding to death. “I want you to know I love you. More than anything. And I want you to live and raise our son.”

  “Julian.” It came out on a sob.

  “I always loved you. I just couldn’t admit it, even to myself.”

  She reached for him, but he pulled back a little. “No. I have to tell you this. Everyone I’ve ever cared about has left me. Everyone. I knew if I loved you, you would leave me, too. And I wouldn’t be able to stand it.”

  “No! I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I’d never leave you.”

  Her words ripped his heart in half. She would be spending the rest of her life with someone else, because he was the one who would be leaving. “I’ve never loved a woman the way I love you. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.”

  Tears leaked from her eyes. She tried to ease him into her arms.

  He held her back. “Promise me you’ll run and hide. Promise!”

  “I promise,” she choked out and drew him into a gentle embrace. She brushed his hair back and sobbed. With a shaking hand, she pushed aside the collar of his shirt. “You have the bonding mark.”

  Their bond was complete, but now it didn’t matter. Now it was too late. He did the only thing he could. He breathed in her scent and basked in the warmth of her body for a few moments. Knowing time was the enemy, he separated himself from her and pulled the van back onto the road. A numbing weakness stole over him.

  Deteriorating at a frightening rate, he drove in a daze, only half aware of what he was doing.

  Please let me get her home, or at least close enough that she can make it to safety. The silent litany ran over and over through his fogged mind.

  When he finally recognized where he was, relief spread through him. She should be able to make it from there.

  He pulled into an alley and parked. “We have to walk from here. I can’t leave the van any closer to home.” He opened the door and fell out on shaking legs. He staggered, but caught himself.

  She hurried to him and slid her arm around his waist, letting him lean against her. With strength she didn’t know she had, she kept him on his feet and led him down the alley and across the street.

  They cut through another alley. Seconds later, a van bore down on them with a roar. Helpless anger shot through Julian. They hadn’t got away. As quickly as everything had happened, some bastard had called out. He shoved Saranna forward. “Run,” he yelled.

  Unable to support himself, he stumbled and collapsed onto his knees. “Run, Saranna.”

  She stopped and turned back.

  The look on her face shattered him. “You can’t help me. Run. Now!” He choked and coughed up blood. So this was it. He was going to die in this dirty, foul-smelling alley.

  She whirled and raced down the passage, out of his sight. The pain of watching her go cut deeper than any wound ever inflicted on him. But at least he wasn’t dying for nothing. She and his son would live.

  Behind him, the van screeched to a halt. Doors slammed. Heavy boots clomped on the pavement.

  Fucking hell, he wasn’t going out without taking someone with him. Teeth bared, the last of his strength condensing into determination to die a warrior, he grasped under his jacket for the Sig and swiveled around.

  A blow to his head put him down, face first, on the cold asphalt. The gun clattered from his hand. He squeezed his eyes shut against blinding pain but only for a moment. He clawed for the gun.

  Someone kicked the gun away and patted him down, stripping him of weapons.

  A boot slammed into his injured side. He bit off a cry, refusing them the satisfaction. The man who’d kicked him shoved him over on his back.

  “You gave us a good chase. Not that it did you any good.”

  “His bitch is long gone,” a second officer said.

  “So. He’s a rogue. He’s more important than the female.”

  Julian had nothing left to fight with but it didn’t stop him from trying. He hissed. “You fuckers aren’t going to win the war,” he said around a mouthful of blood. His body was shutting down. A deep chill and sleepiness was already stealing through him. “You might have me … but you won’t destroy all of us.”

  “You really believe that? You think you can win against the United States government?”

  “We’ll fight until we’re free.” It was becoming hard to form words and get them out.

  “You fuckers have guts. Too bad it isn’t enough.”

  Julian’s visual acuity was fading but at least he wasn’t in extreme pain because he was going numb.

  He bared his fangs. The government machine wouldn’t win. They. Would. Not. Win. He struggled to speak but nothing came out except a groan. He coughed and blood ran from the corners of his mouth.

  “Yeah, I know,” the officer said. “You’re dying. It’s a bitch.” He poked Julian with the toe of his boot. “There’s no place for your kind in a civilized world. You have no right to live.”

  “Fuck. You.” More blood ran from his mouth.

  Another van pulled into the alley and stopped. Three men piled out.

  “You got ‘im.” The first to reach them said.

  “He’s dying.” He prodded Julian again. “Call for a truck. I’ll get his brand number for identification.”

  Julian struggled to breathe. His chest was tight and his throat clogged. Each breath became harder to draw.

  The man went back to the van. A moment later, he returned and bent over Julian.

  Julian growled, but it came out a foamy gurgle.

  “Growl all you want, you stupid bastard.” He grabbed Julian’s arm and photographed the identification number and then Julian.

  Julian had the will, but not the strength to fight the officer off. He growled again, defiant but unable to resist.

  The officer pulled out his gun and aimed at Julian’s head.

  Heart pounding, he didn’t look away. He would not die like a pussy. He would face what came with the last of his strength. He would die with courage and the knowledge that they hadn’t broken him. He had earned the right to be called a warrior.

  “Don’t waste the lead,” one of the other men said. “After what that fucker did, he deserves a bad death. Just throw his ass in the truck. He’ll probably die before he gets to the plant. But if not, who cares?”

  “I put carcasses on a truck. If he was alive when he got there, they’d throw him in the machinery without killing him.”

  “So.”

  “Look, Mason. I don’t like the fuckers either, but processing him alive… I don’t give a damn if he is a vampire, or what he did, that’s inhumane.” He chambered a round and lifted the gun.

  Julian didn’t flinch. His time was dwindling. It didn’t matter if a well placed bullet ended his life a few minutes quicker than nature intended. A shot rang out and he jumped. It took a moment to realize
he hadn’t been hit.

  Another shot cracked. And another. Something whizzed through the air.

  The two men who’d been arguing about him lay on the asphalt and a third lay several feet away.

  It didn’t matter. It was too late for him. He lay still, even with the spreading numbness it hurt too much to move. He waited for death to claim him. He was so terribly cold. So … cold.

  Was that Ashton and Slade? No. Only shadows. Lots of shadows now.

  He wished he could see Saranna one last time.

  And then she was there, running down the alley like an angel. His lips curled into a little smile at the image his mind had created. She wasn’t there, but he could pretend she was. He would die with a vision of her as the last thing he saw.

  He closed his eyes.

  BANKS VIEWED the downloaded footage of the blond vampire and his bitch escaping the Security Center’s garage moments before the explosion had destroyed the facility. He’d been shot several times. Hopefully, the son of a bitch had holed up somewhere and died. The men who’d chased him had been killed, though whether the blond had done it or not was unclear.

  In case he was still alive, Banks had issued a new warrant with one of the highest rewards ever offered for a vampire. He was worth $100,000, dead or alive, preferably dead.

  On a positive note, Banks’ bastard son had been blown into oblivion, so he didn’t have to worry about that little fucker any longer. And the virus formula and data were safely stored offsite.

  He’d lost a lot of personnel and some of his staff who’d worked on the rabies project. But they would be replaced. The project would continue as soon as he could get it back up and running.

  JULIAN SURFACED from whatever dark place he’d lain in and she was there, dozing in the chair next to him.

  “I’m alive,” he said with something akin to wonder.

  She jerked awake. “You’re back! You came back to me.”

  He reached for her hand.

  She linked her fingers with his. “I thought I’d lost you. Jason said you’d make it, but I didn’t believe him.”

  He squeezed her hand.

  “While I have you to myself,” she said. “I want you to know how sorry I am. For everything. You almost died for me.”

  “Saranna, it’s over, don’t dwell on it.”