by Alicia Ryan
“Lucas Benson,” the boy said, coupling the pronouncement with a careless shrug. “Most people just call me Luc.”
Ash studied the young vampire. “Been in the city long, Luc?”
Luc shook his head. “No. This was my first gig for the Council, and here you up and spot me on the first day.”
Ash almost smiled, but he was annoyed at the Council’s intrusion into his privacy, not to mention their incompetence. He set Luc back on his feet. “Where are you from?” he asked.
“Georgia,” Luc answered, backing up several paces to put some space between them. He looked up toward at the towers of the Time-Warner building, still visible over the tree line. “Just figured after a hundred years I should see someplace new, I guess.”
Ash’s jaw dropped, and he covered the distance between them in an instant, his hand clamping around Luc’s throat. “That’s not possible,” he declared through gritted teeth. “I don’t know what game the Council is playing, but there’s no point lying to me. You can’t possibly be a century old. You still give off enough heat you could almost pass for human.”
Luc struggled to speak, and Ash dropped him abruptly.
“Get yourself another assignment,” Ash said, as Luc sputtered and rubbed his throat. “If I ever find you following me again, I’ll kill you.”
He stepped around Luc, making it clear he was dismissed, but then turned back. “And tell the Council the same goes for anyone else they send. I’m tired of humoring them.”
And now that he had found Delilah, he didn’t want them getting in the way. She was his alone.
CHAPTER 8
Full of disapproval, Nancy’s voice crackled out of the intercom speaker on Ash’s desk. “Miss Toria to see you, sir.”
He forced himself to put down the dossier he’d been reading. Everything about Delilah, or as she was called in this life, Ariana, was in that folder. Ash routinely used a private detective to investigate executives of companies in which he was planning to invest. When he’d called to ask Tom to gather background on a prominent New York fund manager, Tom hadn’t considered it strange at all. He’d prepared the dossier over the past two weeks. Ash had memorized it in minutes.
Nor had her boss, Roger, considered it strange when Ash called to inquire about subscribing to their newest fund. The man had been quite ecstatic, actually, even inviting Ash to dinner to bring him up to speed.
Ash checked his watch and made his way to the second floor living room to find Toria’s petite body lounging on his couch. Stunning as ever, she wore dark jeans that barely covered her pubic bone and a black crocheted sweater that, from a distance, appeared quite modest, but upon closer inspection left little of her smooth torso or black lace bra to the imagination. Her hair was sculpted into sleek dark ringlets. Ash frowned when he noticed her stilettos propped up on his coffee table.
Toria laughed and dropped her feet to the floor. She let her eyes roam over his physique, taking in his crisp cotton shirt and dark slacks. Ash saw warmth in her expression, but all she said was, “How very Brooks Brothers, Ash.” Business casual was not to her taste.
“You’re late, Toria,” he pointed out. “I called you two hours ago.”
Toria raised her eyebrows and put her feet back up on the table.
Ash sighed. He knew it was the wrong approach. “I’m surprised I had to call you at all,” he said. “I thought when we spoke in the park that you needed my help.” He looked at her with genuine confusion. “What happened, Toria? It’s been weeks.”
Her heels again dropped to the floor. Behind him, Ash heard the hall door open and cursed himself for not telling Nancy to keep James busy. Toria stood as the newest vampire came around the corner.
She turned to Ash. “Aren’t you going to introduce me?”
Ash gave an inward groan. “I believe you’ve already met.”
James came toward them, and Toria’s dark eyes widened. “Him?” She pointed at James. “You turned him? Why?”
Ash saw James grow paler. “James,” he said with a long-suffering sigh, “this is Toria. She’s an old friend of mine, one of the Council Elders, and,” he hesitated, knowing this wasn’t going to go well, “the one who attacked you in the park.”
James lunged at her, but Ash stuck out his arm and caught James across the chest.
“Damn it, Ash!” James cried, realizing he was pinned.
Toria didn’t even flinch.
“James, calm down,” Ash ordered. He looked from James to Toria and back again. “Look at her, James. Look closely. You should know you can’t harm her. You should know she’s much older than you.”
“I don’t care,” James exclaimed. Nevertheless, he did as he was instructed and stopped fighting. Ash released his grip.
“Answer me, Ash,” Toria demanded. “Why did you turn him? It’s been centuries since you made another.”
Ash ran a hand through his dark hair and cast a baleful eye at James. “I don’t really know,” he admitted. “I guess I just thought it might finally be safe, if he was properly instructed.”
Toria rolled her eyes, and looked James up and down, taking in his khaki pants and button-down blue shirt. “He was better off dead,” she said finally.
“How dare you?” James yelled, taking a long step in her direction. This time Ash didn’t stop him, and James grabbed Toria’s arm and spun her around. “You left me for dead!” he shouted. He pointed at Ash with a shaking hand. “He saved me.”
Toria shook her arm free of James’ grasp and laughed. “No, young one, he didn’t. And don’t make the mistake of thinking there’s real human feeling still lingering in the dead heart of your newfound friend here.” She looked at Ash. “Whatever he did, he did for his own reasons.”
“Toria,” Ash began.
“Don’t take that tone with me, Ash,” she shot back. “You’re the one who’s always preaching restraint. We’re killers. Why would you go and make another one?”
“I won’t be a killer,” James insisted.
Toria turned again to James, her gaze filled with scorn. “You already are,” she said. “The sooner you accept that, the better it will be for everyone.”
Ash sighed. “It doesn’t have to be that way, Toria. And though I don’t judge you for the choices you’ve made, I don’t want to force that choice on James.”
“And did you tell your new pet that when you made me, we went on a killing spree?”
Ash gave her a pointed look, but remained silent.
Toria sank down onto the couch once more, her expression cold and haughty. “I didn’t think so,” she said. “Tell me Ash, when are you going to let your new pet out for his first walk?”
James gritted his teeth. “I would like to see Ariana.”
“What?” Ash’s head snapped around to look at his charge.
“I’ve been thinking,” James said, “and, while I agree with you that I can’t go back to my old life, surely I can check in on her? From a distance?”
Ash shook his head. “You know that’s not possible.”
“No, I don’t,” James said. “I don’t know anything because I haven’t left this house since I first woke up here.”
“James,” Ash began.
“No more juice boxes, Ash.” James got up and started back toward the stairs. “I’m going out… tonight.”
He left, and Toria turned to look at Ash. She batted her eyelashes and smiled sweetly at him. “That went well.”
Ash longed to smack her. “Surely you didn’t come here just to smirk?” he asked through clenched teeth.
“Actually, no, but I might start dropping in for that in the future. I came to talk to you about the vampire abductions.”
“Abductions?” Ash queried. “You make it sound like the culprits are little green men.”
Toria said nothing, but pulled a file folder from the black bag at her side. She stood and poked one end of it into Ash’s broad chest.
Ash took it from her and began paging through its contents.
Seven. Eight. At least nine missing. They were mostly young, but not newly made, so suicide wasn’t a likely answer. Sometimes the minds of the new ones couldn’t adjust to what they had become. They often killed themselves within the first year of their turning.
“I don’t understand,” he said, still looking at the last page. “These are not fledglings. A couple of them are quite old. Are you telling me they are all missing?”
Toria nodded silently.
“Who could pull this off?” he asked.
“You mean besides you?” Toria raised a dark, sculpted brow.
Ash was taken aback. “Me?”
“There was some talk after we figured out what was happening that you were the only one capable of kidnapping or killing these particular vampires. Or of hiring humans to do it for you.”
Toria poked a manicured nail into his chest, anger flaring in her eyes. “I had almost quelled the suspicion against you until you sent Luc back with the message that you were going to kill anyone they sent to follow you from now on. It made some of the Council question what you have to hide.”
Ash closed the folder. “You know I don’t have anything to do with this,” he said.
“I know,” Toria replied, replacing the folder in her bag. “You don’t care enough about vampires to go to all this trouble.”
Ash sighed and sat down on the arm of the sofa. “Perhaps, but I do care enough to offer my help.”
Toria moved to stand in front of him. “I’m not even sure what to ask you to do,” she said. “I first thought it must be humans. Now, I’m not so sure. The Council is officially investigating all the individual cases, but I’ve been unofficially investigating for weeks; now they seem to have tapered off. There has only been one in the last month, and I’m running out of leads.”
She folded her arms across her chest and looked down at the floor. “I’ve even stooped to asking Keller for help,” she muttered.
“Keller?” Ash’s brow shot up. “The monk? Since when is he in New York? And I thought he’d vowed never to be in the same hemisphere as you.” It almost made Ash smile. It was a rare male who could resist Toria. When she’d set her sights on the handsome Irishman, Ash had assumed he was a goner. Not so. The man was a true believer and had resisted Toria to the very end with a fierceness Ash had seldom seen. It had only made her want him more, of course. Inevitably, she turned him, thinking to rip him from the arms of God and into her own, but Keller just hated her more.
“He finally got tired of hiding out, apparently,” Toria said. “He’s a scholar, and the best place for him to be a scholar is here.”
Ash heard the note of sadness creep into her voice. They all had so many regrets.
“And is there anything in the history books about disappearing vampires?” he asked.
Toria pursed her lips. “Not unless this is the beginning of the apocalypse.”
“What?” That got his attention.
Toria shook her head. “It’s nothing. Keller is still a monk. He reads signs as well as books. The Verses speak of the end of the children of Lilith as one of the signs of the end of days.”
Ash shook his head. “Don’t waste your time on fairy tales, Toria,” he said. “Whatever is happening, there’s a logical answer, and we’ll find it.”
“I know,” Toria said with a frown, “but my gut tells me something is wrong. I just can’t figure out what it is.”
Ash didn’t state the obvious. If the abductions had stopped, they might never know the answer. “How about a hunt to improve your spirits?” he asked, wanting to change the subject.
“With you?” Toria’s disbelief was unmistakable.
Ash shook his head. “No, not with me. With James.”
Toria’s dubious look remained for a moment. “All right,” she agreed finally. “I’ll take your pet out, but I won’t pull any punches.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Ash said, rising to stand beside her. “Tell me, do you think you can get him set up at Council House too?”
“My, my, aren’t we full of requests tonight?” Toria asked, giving him a speculative glare.
“Do you want my help or not?” Ash asked pointedly.
Toria’s skewering gaze relented, so Ash continued. “James is some kind of computer whiz. He needs to stay busy, and I figured the Council could use him. If you don’t agree…” He let his voice trail off, not wanting to owe Toria too many favors. Or make her think he had any other reason for wanting James out of his house.
Toria thought for a moment. “No, you’re probably right. I’ll get a room set up at Council House and be back for him in a couple of hours.” She gathered up her bag, stepped closer, and put her hand on Ash’s chest. “Just promise me you’ll see what you can find out about the missing vampires, Ash. This is serious. I can feel it.”
Ash nodded, surprised by the earnestness in her gaze.
CHAPTER 9
After seeing Toria to the door, Ash went in search of James. As expected, he found him in the downstairs den playing a video game. “If I’d known how many hours a day you could spend with that thing I’d have bought it weeks ago,” Ash commented.
James didn’t look up. “I have to leave here, you know,” he said, leaning sideways as something exploded on the huge screen.
Ash sighed, unsure why he was so worried about this particular vampire. He’d made others and never doubted their ability to fend for themselves—even the very first one, who had been a complete accident.
Almost 400 years after he’d crawled out of the rubble of the Philistine temple, Ash remained ignorant of his true nature. He had clung to humans, trying to blend in, to pretend to be what he was no longer.
He’d still been a soldier then, one of the famed Jewish mercenaries in the army of Alexander of Macedon, whom time would christen Alexander the Great. The man had been a genius at exploiting the weaknesses of his enemies. On that particular night, however, one of Alexander’s most impossible victories had also turned out to be one of the simplest.
Alexander had advanced far into Central Asia but left insufficient troops and legitimacy behind to preserve his hold in other parts of his newly conquered empire. A rebellion had sprung up in one of the provinces, and Alexander took part of his force back into the interior to quell it.
They made short work of the rebels, with the exception of their leader and one small band who took refuge in a nearly impregnable location. The Sogdian Rock was a natural phenomenon that rose over two miles into the air. At that time of year, it was covered in ice and snow from base to summit.
When they arrived, Alexander had demanded the rebels surrender, but they had laughed at him, asking where he planned to get winged soldiers. So Alexander sent a call through his ranks for men brave enough and strong enough to attempt to scale the ice in a night assault. Alexander promised a king’s ransom to the first 12 to make it to the top, and 300 men, including Samson, volunteered. Each of them was given a strip of red cloth to wave as a way to signal their successful ascent.
Samson had conducted night raids with many of the men who volunteered for this mission. They knew his strength, and he and 11 others were chosen to go first. The others would follow in their steps, up their lines.
It was not an easy ascent, even for him. At that time, he wasn’t yet able to fly, so he was left to pull himself up the sheer wall of ice with the rest. He was luckier than most, though, because the cold affected him less. He could leave his hands ungloved, and his strength was not sorely tested. Still, a careless handhold could have sent him plummeting to the valley floor, as it did at least 30 of the others. He hadn’t known at that point whether such an injury would kill him.
He was first to reach the top, where he unfurled his red banner. Down below, Alexander waited for night to fully fall and then moved the rest of his force into hiding.
In the morning, Alexander rode out and summoned the stronghold’s messengers. He told them he’d found soldiers with wings, and the several hundred men at the to
p unfurled their banners, to the dismay of the rebels. Not knowing how many of Alexander’s men had managed to do the impossible, the rebel leader surrendered immediately.
Ash and his men were allowed some amount of pillage and plunder, but not as much as usual because Alexander intended to take a bride here and secure these lands through political alliance instead of fear. The men fed, raped, and stole with varying degrees of success and enthusiasm. Many of them merely demanded a fire and a meal.
Ash found a ramshackle lean-to that served as a sentry tower at the outer rim of the rampart. He knocked its lone occupant unconscious and dragged him inside, so he could feed and shelter his body from the few hours of sun that were approaching.
He was finishing off the unconscious rebel when Memnon happened across his hiding place. Memnon was one of the Shield Bearers, an elite fighting force built by Alexander’s father, Phillip. He was a valiant warrior, and Ash had admired his skill and his loyalty to Alexander.
Nevertheless, when he saw the horror of what he’d become reflected in Memnon’s shocked eyes, Ash lunged at him full force, fangs bared. Memnon managed to draw his sword, but it only hit a glancing blow across Ash’s chest and shoulder. Ash knocked the sword away, grabbed Memnon, held him, and drained him almost dry.
When he felt Memnon’s pulse beat tire, saw his many valiant, even heroic deeds, Ash was overcome with horror at himself. He’d never allowed himself to develop close ties, even before he became a blood-drinker. Now he’d killed the one person he might have called friend in several hundred years. He’d killed someone who deserved to live.
Ash bent to lay the man’s body on the floor, and a drop of blood from the wound in his shoulder fell onto Memnon’s lips. They twitched. It was almost imperceptible, but Ash was certain he’d seen it.
Not sure what he was doing or why, he slid his dagger out of its sheath and cut his own wrist. More blood flowed over the fallen hero, who eventually began to drink. Ash had saved him—and become aware of another terrible power that he possessed.
