“It’s daylight now. She’ll be fine.”
Even though he stood in a relaxed stance, she felt the anger and stubbornness writhing inside him. “Jake.”
“What?”
“I’m not letting you near Seta when she’s too weak to defend herself. Go.”
“I’m not leaving without the boy.” His eyes widened in alarm. “She’s in there with them!”
“Jake, you’d have heard screams if Seta had attacked them! Just chill out. I’ll get him.” She pointed her finger at him. “You stay!”
She walked toward the house, pausing outside long enough to make sure he was doing as she’d ordered, and then stepped into the bloodbath which used to be a living room. She’d thought Maybelline had ugly furniture before. Now it was downright gruesome.
“He wants to kill me, doesn’t he?” Seta asked, her voice a pain-filled rasp.
“I won’t let him,” Nyla promised, squatting before the fallen vamp, careful not to give in to the urge to kneel. Her jeans were already covered in blood, but she still didn’t want to kneel on the drenched carpet. “Can you heal yourself? I’ve heard witches have that power.”
“I healed the girl, Marilee, earlier. Crushed larynx. Took a lot out of me.”
“And then the fireballs and the reading. When was the last time you drank?”
“Too long. I probably couldn’t heal this damage anyway. Hellfire is Lucifer’s weapon, and it’s a good one. Hopefully, I’m powerful enough that the day sleep will heal it. I’ll have scars for a good while though.”
Nyla nodded, pity mingling with anger inside her chest. Someone would pay for this. “I’m going to get something to cover Maybelline and Bobby’s faces as I lead them out of here. After I hand them over to Jake, I’m going to take you somewhere safe.”
“Protect Jacob,” the vampire-witch whispered.
“You want me to protect him knowing he hates you?” Nyla asked, surprised.
“There was a time I hated him as much,” Seta said, a small laugh escaping her. “But I understand him now. There’s so much pain inside him, so much rage. He honestly believes he’s doing the right thing. He tries to fight against the darkness inside him, but he needs you to bank it down. You must stay with him, Nyla. He needs you far more than I do.”
“Why?”
“Because, as I told you earlier, your touch diminishes the darkness inside him. Go with him. Let him hold you.”
Nyla shook her head wearily. “I don’t think he wants to hold me, Seta. He’s pretty upset with me right now.”
“Then you hold him. You can’t let him drown in the darkness. If you do, he’ll become a monster far crueler than anything he’s ever hunted,” Seta warned before closing her eyes and slumping against the wall. Nyla knew she’d blacked out from the pain.
“ALFRED!”
Curtis cringed as the sound of Demarcus’s voice reverberated around the basement laboratory. The vampire was angrier than he’d ever seen him, stomping around the room and cursing as the few vampires who’d returned cowered in the corner.
The one named Billy Ray had returned first, with the scrawny sheriff draped over his blood-soaked shoulder. The smaller man, now strapped to the same metal table the young girl had recently vacated, had apparently urinated on himself some time during his capture and still reeked of the foul-smelling scent.
Two other vampires, both female, flew away from Judd Smith’s house when they realized they didn’t stand a chance against their three opponents. Demarcus had been ready to kill them for abandoning their mission, but then he realized that they’d brought him valuable information.
“Alfred!”
Curtis shuddered as he carefully placed the test tube he’d been working with into its holder, smiling slyly. He’d finally perfected the serum on which his brother had worked so painstakingly. He’d known how to do it all along, but he’d pretended he hadn’t, afraid whose hands the serum might fall into. But now he had to do it. The witch with the platinum eyes who’d come to him in his dreams had told him so.
He left his work area to answer the volatile vampire, knowing it wouldn’t take long before the impatient beast would direct his anger at him. “Yes?”
“I thought you made my children stronger!” Demarcus barked, whirling around to face Curtis as he approached.
“I did,” Curtis answered, shrugging. “I gave them the ability to fly and revved up their stamina, but that’s all I can do artificially. I can’t make them better strategic fighters. That only comes with time and practice.”
“How am I supposed to defeat her if she’s killed off my army?”
Curtis would have suggested Demarcus ask for help from other powerful vampires, but he knew doing so would only anger him further. Demarcus had no vampire friends or associates, and except for the vampires he’d created or captured to be experimented on, he wouldn’t want any other vampire to see the hideous, fur-covered creature he’d become after the pantherian had attacked him.
“Answer me!”
Curtis jumped at the harshness of Demarcus’s tone, barely managing to suppress a whimper. “She wasn’t alone. She had help from her man, correct?”
“Yes.”
“It’s been your plan all along to capture him and make her come to his rescue so we can ambush her. Let’s just stick to that. She won’t be as powerful by herself.”
“The man killed two of my children and would have taken out Billy Ray had he not run.”
“Actually, the girl killed Lou,” Billy Ray interjected from the corner he remained huddled in, earning a glare from Demarcus.
“I did not expect a mortal man to be so much trouble,” the dark vampire said, swinging his narrowed gaze from Billy Ray to Curtis. “I have three children left, and now those three hunters are protecting the town, so it won’t be easy for me to make more. How did they get a vampire-witch to help? That was definitely unexpected.”
Curtis quickly schooled his features before a smile could escape him, remembering how it was the vampires who’d destroyed his twin. Leaving the bodies had brought the catwoman’s man to them, as Demarcus had planned, but it had also brought one of the vampires. Another who stood a chance at destroying Demarcus.
“I suppose the vampiress followed the bodies, just as Nyla and her man did. You forgot it was vampires who killed Carter. Obviously, it is vampires who will seek me out as well if they think I’m killing these women.”
“You are killing these women,” Demarcus reminded him, causing a sharp pang of guilt to slash through Curtis’s chest.
Behind Demarcus, the sheriff started to moan on the metal table, flexing his fingers. Then his eyes flew open as he jerked his wrists against his shackles, and he screamed.
Demarcus bent over the man and smiled, flashing elongated fangs for effect, and the man’s scream became shriller. Liquid spilled from the table, and Curtis groaned, realizing the man was wetting himself again, making more of a stinking mess for him to clean up.
Demarcus straightened, laughing at the terrified man. “And to think I was told you might present a problem for us. Sheriff Pee-Pee, is it?”
“Peewee,” the sheriff corrected him, anger apparently giving him some semblance of courage. “And you do have a problem.”
“Oh, really?” Demarcus cocked his head, peering down at the strapped man. “What would that be? Your special task force has been dismantled, and you, the man in charge of protecting this town, are now at my mercy.”
“My cousin is going to kill you.”
“Ah, yes, your cousin. The man who killed many of my children. I fully intend to meet this cousin of yours. Who is he?”
Don’t say anything, Curtis silently pleaded with the scrawny captive, trying to catch his gaze. But the sheriff wouldn’t look at him. He was too busy watching Demarcus, most likely fearing an attack. Curt
is couldn’t blame him for being scared. It was bad enough finding yourself at the mercy of a vampire, let alone one with fur, claw-like fingernails and patches of decaying skin. But Nyla and the man’s cousin could be their way out of Demarcus’s prison. They were doomed if the sheriff gave away too much information.
“His name is Jake,” Peewee answered, “and he’s been killing you monsters for years.”
“Is that so?” Demarcus’s mouth twisted into a sinister grimace, which was probably meant to be a grin but came off far too ugly.
“Yes.”
Curtis watched as Demarcus rolled the information over in his mind, repeating the man’s name. He couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but there was definitely something going on inside his head.
Suddenly, the vampire’s eyes flew wide, a look of dawning recognition etched into his face. “Your name is Porter,” he said to the sheriff.
“Yes.”
“Your cousin. His name is Porter?”
“Yeah.”
“Jacob Porter?”
“Yes,” the sheriff said smugly, apparently thinking Demarcus had heard the name because of the many kills he’d just boasted of, but Curtis could tell there was something else sparking Demarcus’s memory.
Demarcus threw his head back and let out a deep roar of laughter, the sound rumbling through the house like a roll of thunder. “The fool! He doesn’t even know!”
Peewee visibly squirmed on the table, despite his restraints. The sheriff had come to the realization something was wrong, just as Curtis had. They both watched the laughing vampire, who now had streams of water running from the corners of his black eyes. “He doesn’t know!”
“There’s good news, master?” Billy Ray timidly asked from the corner he remained cowered in, breaking into Demarcus’s laughing fit.
Demarcus glared at the mullet-topped blond, obviously not pleased with the intrusion, but his glare quickly softened, followed by a slight upturn to his mouth. “Yes, my child, there is good news.” He leaned over Peewee once more, offering a predatory smile. “Your cousin, brave sheriff, is the same boy who escaped me sixteen years ago. I’ve always wanted to meet him again, and now it appears that I will.”
“You’re one of the vampires who killed Bobby Romano,” Peewee said, his pupils dilated with fear.
“Yes.”
The sheriff started screaming again, loud and shrill, like a woman in panic. He fought against the restraints, but couldn’t do more than jerk.
“Silence him,” Demarcus instructed Curtis as he turned away to pace beside the metal table, clicking his long nails together as he thought.
Curtis retrieved a sedative from the small area which had been set up as his laboratory and injected it into the screaming man’s blood stream.
“You look as though you’ve thought of a way to get to the woman,” he said, watching as the strong sedative quickly took effect in the young sheriff’s body, silencing him almost instantly.
“Jacob Porter is a slayer,” Demarcus said almost happily, which was odd considering slayers were the vampires’ greatest fear, next to UV and fire.
“Wouldn’t that be bad news then?”
“Normally, yes, but considering who he’s with . . . and the fact that he obviously has no clue what she is or she’d be dead, it’s wonderful news. It’s our ticket to both of them.”
“What are you planning?”
“I can’t send vampires to retrieve him. He’d sense us before we could get close enough to touch him.”
“If that’s true, how can he not know what the woman is? You said she became a vampire after your bite.”
“She did. She drinks blood, and I don’t sense that she’s aged at all since that night.”
“So maybe he does know what she is and doesn’t care. He was working with the vampire-witch too.”
“No,” Demarcus said, shaking his head. “She dropped her guard for a split second earlier today, and I was allowed a quick peek. He was inside her, pleasuring her. He wouldn’t do that with someone he suspected of being a vampire. Somehow, he doesn’t pick up on her scent.”
“And you know how to use that against him?”
“Against them both,” the vampire answered, a devilish smile spreading across his hideous face. “Slayers are born with a deep, consuming hatred for my kind. If he were to find out who he has become close to . . .”
“He’ll kill her himself, saving you the trouble.”
“And he’ll probably kill himself for screwing her,” Demarcus added with another deep, booming laugh. “I didn’t know how to capture her, not after reports that she can shift faster now than she did sixteen years ago. There’d be no way to hold her. Now I won’t have to.”
“How can he kill her if she shifts that fast?”
“He’s a slayer. If anyone can kill her, it’s him.”
“So that’s the plan? Wait around for him to discover what she is and kill her?”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Demarcus said as he walked over to the table where Curtis had left out his research materials. Curtis had scoured the Internet for information regarding the therian race, finally coming across bits of information after several weeks of searching. He’d also come across information regarding large cat diseases, information which could possibly help in curing Demarcus, but he hadn’t printed out that information. “I felt the strength of her emotions coursing through her as they fucked. It’ll happen again. I just need her to let go enough to drop her shields, just long enough for me to take control.”
“To possess her.”
“Yes.”
Curtis’s stomach rebelled. “You’ll use her body to kill Jacob Porter and then make her commit suicide.”
“If she allows me the opening. If not, we’ll just have to figure out a way for Porter to see what she truly is. As a slayer, he has immunity to mind tricks, so I can’t get inside his head with any spells, not even with a blood sacrifice. Anything I do, it has to be done through her.”
Curtis struggled to think of a way to protect the hunters. They were his only hope of being freed from Demarcus, and the witch had promised him Alfred could be exorcised from his body if he helped them. He glanced toward the vial containing the serum he’d created. “Can Jacob Porter sense me?”
Demarcus glanced up from the folder of papers he was sifting through. “You turned away from Lucifer, so I don’t think he’d sense a demonic presence, especially with your wiring so screwed up,” he added, referring to the fact there were two souls inside his body. Alfred and Curtis overlapped one another, canceling out any chance of anyone getting a clear reading from him. It was that little fact which had kept his plans hidden from Demarcus.
“I’ve created something which could slow him down,” Curtis lied, focusing on keeping his voice steady. Demarcus might not be able to see the lie in his mind, but he still stood a chance of hearing it in his voice. “Why don’t I go to them?”
“Are you trying to escape me?”
“No!” Curtis said too quickly, realizing the mistake as Demarcus’s eyes narrowed.
“Liar! You may have created something to slow him down, but you wouldn’t go to them, you sniveling coward. You’d take off in the opposite direction as fast as you could. Nice try, but you won’t be using your little creation unless they come hunting for us.”
“You know it’s only a matter of time before they do. Wouldn’t it be more to our advantage if we hunted them down first?”
Demarcus didn’t answer. Instead he continued to focus intensely on a paper from the research folder. “You know, if we get lucky, Nyla will find herself in a position where she can’t shift, and we’ll be able to capture her after all. Maybe then you can dissect her living body and speed along the hunt for the cure for my . . . condition. And Mr. Porter would, of course, come for her. Oh, the
fun we’d have then.”
Curtis gulped, realizing what information Demarcus was reading, and hoping it didn’t come true. Of course, if it did happen, Jake would come for her and give him the chance he needed. Somehow, before Demarcus could carry out his plans, he’d have to inject Jake Porter with the serum.
NYLA PLACED A pair of pillowcases over Maybelline’s and Bobby’s heads, then led them out of their home, which had so recently become a slaughterhouse. The sun fell on her face as she stepped out into the morning light, but she could barely feel it through the stickiness of blood clinging to her skin.
Jake stood with his feet braced apart, his hands fisted at his sides, struggling with some inner turmoil she didn’t want a closer look at. The lower half of his face was covered with a fine shadow of hair, bits of dried blood clinging to the scratchy-looking stubble. His clothes, arms and everything else, for that matter, were soaked in the substance. Two large bags hung from below his tired eyes, which were red around the rims. He was probably bruised and battered from their recently fought battle, but she couldn’t find any evidence of such injuries beneath the caked blood drying on his skin.
“Take Maybelline and Bobby to the motel and secure them,” she suggested as she uncovered their faces, listening to their sharp intakes of breath as they saw Jake, blood-splattered and almost as scary-looking as what had invaded their house. “Get cleaned up, shave, take a nap. It’s been a long day.”
“Where are you taking Seta?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
She saw the flinch he tried to hide and felt horrible. He wasn’t a murderer, not in the sense she knew she’d just made him feel like, but she knew his mind wasn’t in the right place at the moment. After what they’d just been through, she couldn’t hold that against him though, and hoped he’d understand. She was protecting him as much as she was protecting Seta.
“Did you kill my daddy?” Little Bobby asked her for the second time, and as she gazed down at his small, innocent face, she found she couldn’t lie to him.
“I had to.”
“Thank you,” he said, lowering his eyes to the ground as he reached for his mother’s hand and led her to the truck.
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