Shadows of Fire

by Nina Pierce

  Josh entered the hallway and shot Reese a quick look and smiled. He left him to deal with the belligerent occupant and wordlessly went in search of Benjamin.

  “Mrs. Linscott, Benjamin is outside and waiting for you.” Hell if Reese knew if that were true, but he wasn’t above lying to keep someone out of harm’s way. He’d clear out this woman and let Josh worry about the other occupant.

  “Benjamin? You know where Benjamin is?” Her death grip on the bathroom door relaxed.

  Josh came out of the bedroom, the camera hooked to his gear. The heavy gloves on his hands protected him from the claws of a snarling cat. Animals, especially cats, didn’t like vampires. Reese bit back a laugh.

  “Benjamin.” The woman gracefully pushed past Reese and grabbed the cat from Josh. With her attention on the animal, Reese replaced both his mask and helmet and directed her to the door. He’d carry her if he had to. But at the moment there was no imminent danger and he could let her move at her own pace to safety.

  White walls of steam had replaced the black smoke in the hall. The orange glow was gone, leaving only the heaviness of the night and the thudding sound of an axe against a wall. A stove fire. Josh broke off to check on the charred apartment and help the others assess the walls for hot spots. The supply of water no longer needed, the hose lay limp and flat at their feet.

  Reese led Mrs. Linscott and her feisty cat down the stairs and into the waiting embrace of her worried daughter.

  Deputy Chief Sykes was focused on the radio as Reese moved to the engine. “We’ve got another call,” he said simply. Reese didn’t need to hear any more. He’d learned to read the man months ago. Though his words were calm, tension sluiced off Sykes in waves and Reese immediately ran to the building to help Timmons and Josh retract the hose.

  “Colton, Burkett and Timmons with me in the engine.” He heard over his radio. “We’ll leave McLeod with the tanker. They’re calling in everyone. Let’s get moving. This one’s big.”

  * * * *

  Alex swiped at the sticky table, stifling another yawn with the back of her hand. She’d deposited Hope safely back at her apartment, wishing she too could have headed home. But she refused to let Glenn think there was something to his concern and Alex had returned to the tavern intent on getting through their nightly closing routine.

  Before the last three patrons left, Alex had cleaned the small kitchen. The grease was scooped and turned off and the dishwasher was sanitizing the last load of dishes. This night, without Chris to help in the kitchen, they hadn’t served anything that wasn’t pre-packaged, couldn’t be nuked or dropped in the deep fryer. It hadn’t really mattered. Patrons coming to O’Malley’s in the late evenings during the week weren’t looking for their comfort to come from food. They searched for solace in the bottom of a beer bottle or shot glass.

  Co-owning a family tavern like O’Malley’s had been her lifeline over the years. Thirty years was a long time to tend bar and draw drafts. Customers of the tavern didn’t seem to notice that she hadn’t aged in that time. Though the lack of wrinkles was a definite plus, Alex detested being a creature of the night. Most vamps enjoyed the company of their own and sought the rowdier establishments in the valley. Not Alex. Solitude and quiet were more her speed. This tavern nestled in the quiet hills, offered cover for her true identity. It was also remote enough to keep prying eyes from discovering her clandestine activities. With everything set in motion, she only needed another month, maybe two, and then she’d move away without anyone, including Glenn, knowing what she’d been doing.

  Until then, she’d keep up appearances.

  Not wanting Glenn to discover how she suffered, Alex kept her complaints to herself as he wiped up the dark marble of the bar and she moved on to mopping the floor. Next he’d cover the drink garnishes and transfer them to the fridge in the back. Their routine was a graceful ballet they’d performed so many nights, the choreography required nothing more than the pulsing rhythm of the late night show playing on the corner television.

  She hated lying to the ancient vampire. Glenn had been one of the original vampire clan who’d come over from Europe in the late 1700s. He’d settled in South Kenton years before she’d arrived as a fresh-faced college kid from back east ready to find her independence and take on the world. It hadn’t quite unfolded as she’d planned. After her accident, Glenn had been like a loving father. He’d nurtured her, helped her control the beast and taught her what it meant to be immortal. She, in turn, had bought an owner’s share of the tavern and used her chemistry skills to help perfect their blood wine.

  Glenn believed in the vampire codes and that immortality was a blessing bestowed on only a select few humans strong enough to survive the transition. Alex believed it was an unnatural curse that had stolen her life. She would go to any lengths to be sure no other human had to suffer the way she had.

  If Glenn knew what she was up to, Alex had no doubt it would break his heart. As much as she hated what she was—she loved the man who had created her.

  She’d become accustomed to the now familiar ache. Knowing she could satiate it shortly, Alex kept moving. “Push through the next thirty minutes and the night is yours,” she mumbled, trying to convince her body to ignore the gnawing in her gut and the throb at her temples. There was only one thing that pushed the nausea and dizziness back into the void. As exhausted as she was—sleep wasn’t it.

  “Alex?” Her name was spoken with persistence, pushing through the fog of self-absorption. “I think you need to see this.” Glenn grabbed the television remote, turning up the volume.

  Alex stared in disbelief at the television.

  Hope stood in front of the camera, the chaotic scene behind her incongruent with her calm voice and flawless appearance. She’d gotten there so quickly.

  “… the home of Professor Paul Morgan.” Hope looked down briefly at her notes. “We know several surrounding towns have been called in to fight the blaze, but we have no information whether anyone was in the home.” The cameraman zoomed in on the mansion quickly being devoured by the deadly fire. Firefighters in heavy gear worked hoses spewing water that didn’t seem to be slowing the progression of the flames.

  “I hope to hell they got him out.” Glenn turned to her. “Alex, you all right? You’re ashen.” He moved to come around the bar, but she waved him off. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry. I’m sure they got him out.”

  Dread and uncertainty made her light-headed, compounding the nausea churning in her gut. The professor’s life wasn’t her concern, but she wasn’t beyond using it for an excuse. “I’ve got to go find out if the professor’s all right.” Grateful the lie didn’t trip her tongue, Alex removed the apron and left it balled on the bar. “The kitchen’s done. You just need to lock up.”

  “Let me drive you.”

  “No.” The word came out hard and emphatic. “I’m sorry, Glenn. I just meant, no.” She held up her hands and backed toward the door. “I just don’t want to wait for you to lock up.”

  Glenn nodded, his brow furrowed in confusion and worry. Alex loved him for accepting whatever she said. There was no way he could find out where she was headed.

  “I’ll call you as soon as I know anything,” Alex said over her shoulder, fleeing into the night. Stumbling through the parking lot, she worked to swallow the bile filling her throat. Nothing was going right. She could only pray the fire had swallowed her secrets long before the fire department had arrived, but she didn’t have the strength to check.

  Why hadn’t she stayed longer at the mansion after her visit with the good professor?

  * * * *

  The man staggered toward his car in the shadowed corner of a deserted parking lot. The cab the bartender called had dropped him off without a word. Enough money bought anyone’s silence. Besides, he didn’t intend to drive in this condition. His dinner, dessert and late night snack had been of the liquid variety. He’d sleep a few hours in the back seat of his car before returning home to his wife.
She didn’t like it when he didn’t beat the sun home. She’d like it even less if she knew he was drinking again. Sobriety had been an infrequent guest in their marriage and every time the proverbial wagon arrived, she prayed he’d ride it into the sunset.

  The crumpled pink slip in his front pocket had caused this particular fall. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to pull himself back up from the depths this time. Right now it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except finding a quiet place to settle his tired bones. The alcohol rushing through his bloodstream made his head spin and his feet unsteady beneath him. The car keys in his hand had a mind of their own as he attempted to slot them into the door lock.

  “You need some help?”

  Though it was no more than a whisper in the darkness, the voice startled him. He turned in circles, finding nothing but deep shadows and the hiss of the wind. A cold trickle of fear snaked down his back. “Christ, now I’m hallucinating.” His heart pounded harder in his ears and he took great gulps of air, wishing it would clear his head. Focusing once again on the lock before him, he hoped the multiple keys swimming in his vision would miraculously find their way home. “Alone and hearing things, not a good sign.”

  The air pulsed oddly around him.

  “That’s where you’re wrong.” The long fingers sliding down his arm belonged to the hard body pressed firmly to his back. Soft lips caressed his neck, behind his ear. “I’m no hallucination and you’re definitely not alone.”

  He tried to turn, but strong fingers held his chin.

  “Who are you? What do you want?” His questions slurred through pickled lips.

  “It’s not really what I want.” The hand on his arm slid down his waist and across his hip before slipping between the car and his jeans, palming his crotch. “It’s what I can offer you.” The deep, sultry voice filtering through his drunken stupor, quivered down his belly, and settled in his groin. From the timbre he couldn’t tell if the person unzipping his jeans was male or female, but he wasn’t a queer, so the answer was obvious to him.

  “People will see,” he managed to croak as his erection escaped from the confines of his boxers. “We could get in the car.”

  “I like it just fine out here.” The person behind him had a firm grip on him and expertly stroked his length, drawing a sigh from him. “There’s no one near.” A silken tongue ran liquid heat up his neck. “Besides, you don’t really want me to stop. Do you?”

  He canted his hips, making room between him and the car door. No, he didn’t want the hand to stop. Looking down, he stared at the strong fingers pumping him faster. The thumb and forefinger squeezed the mushroom head, bringing forth just enough pain to heighten his pleasure. Damn, this felt amazing. Of their own volition, his hips moved in opposition to the up-and-down slide.

  “You like what I’m doing?” The words were hot against his skin. Teeth grazed the tender pulse in his neck.

  He grunted, wanting only to focus on the sublime pressure building in his low back and the impending explosion of ecstasy tingling in his spine and making his knees quiver. The pain at his neck barely registered as the stranger’s masterful technique brought him to orgasm hard and fast, zinging sparks of bliss along every nerve in his body.

  The hand continued to milk him, spreading heat down the length of his shaft. He wanted to turn and thank the person who had jacked him off so competently, but loving hands suddenly became steel grips. One mercilessly squeezed his dick while the other reached up to tangle in his hair and jerk his head to the side.

  As his moans of pleasure were replaced by screams of agony, he saw someone step from the shadows. He reached out, but when they didn’t move to help, he suspected he only imagined their presence.

  The silken tongue that had laved his throat so gently now sucked and slurped, matching the throbs of agony radiating from his neck. Liquid ran down his shoulder and onto his chest and even in the muddled wash of alcohol, he understood his life was being drained from him.

  In a final attempt to save himself, he flailed his arms and legs against his tormentor’s body, but it had become a solid wall. Muscles turned to steel and the iron grip of his captor’s hands pressed him firmly against the car. He attempted to draw breath, but couldn’t seem to completely fill his lungs to scream for help.

  His world spun in dizzying circles, pulling him down into a deep vortex of black.

  * * * *

  Under the guise of looking for hot spots, Reese carried an axe through the charred remains of the second-floor master bedroom. Though most of the ceiling and the roof above him were missing, the pre-dawn blanket of stars winking through the thin clouds did nothing to illuminate the piles of debris littering the floor. He didn’t need the light on his shoulder, but it wouldn’t do for a fireman to search without it.

  The exterior wall in front of him had been destroyed. The hint of dawn outlined the pines on the eastern horizon. Sunrise was only a couple of hours away. Not much time to find what they sought. Somewhere in the scorched wreckage of the professor’s mansion, Reese hoped to find some clue to the fires that plagued South Kenton.

  One of only a handful of humans who knew about vampires, Paul Morgan had been secretly working with the tribunal. Everyone had hoped his work developing a blood alternative would be a huge step in the evolution of the vampire species. Though he’d never wanted to become immortal himself, the man had been singularly focused on helping creatures few believed existed. Vampire artifacts and religious symbols lay in the burnt ruins of the professor’s office. Reese had no doubt the good professor had somehow attracted the attention of the rogue vamp committing murders and burying them in the destructive fires that had been plaguing the town over the last year.

  The how and why of his—or her—motivation remained unclear. They still had no idea if it was a vamp or human targeting immortals hiding in the mountains. Though it seemed unreasonable to think humans could have discovered the vampire world after hundreds of years, Reese wasn’t ruling out the possibility. After all, the professor had known of their existence.

  Though he didn’t expect anyone to be looking over his shoulder, Reese took a quick glance around before lifting a heavy beam with ease and moving it off of a file cabinet next to the scorched roll-top desk. Only Josh, Timmons and he were left to finish sifting through the mansion with the fire marshal. The rest of the guys had been called to a fatal car fire over an hour ago.

  Just as well, he and Josh needed time to figure out what had triggered the professor’s murder. His body had been found and transported to the mortuary. No one expected the autopsy to turn up any new information. There was no doubt Paul Morgan had died from smoke inhalation and been burned. But he’d been working with the tribunal for several years, so why eliminate Paul now?

  The only thing clear was the fact that the number of fires and executions of humans and vamps in the area was increasing exponentially. If they could discover how the web of clues connected all the fires, no doubt the information would lead them to solving who was behind the heinous crimes. But at this point they couldn’t seem to get ahead of the hell that had descended on their quaint town.

  Reese slid open the file cabinet drawer at his feet, finding only ash. The papers had combusted in the high heat. Though he hadn’t expected anything more, frustration lashed out in the form of boot to metal. The singed cabinet flew several feet before settling next to the melted bed mattress.

  “Not a smart move, Colton.”

  Josh stood at what was left of the doorway, peering into the room, his half-smile further irritating Reese.

  “Fuck you, Burkett.”

  “Thanks for the offer, but I prefer Hope’s soft curves to your ugly mug.” Josh stepped into the space and looked around. “Find anything up here?”

  “Nothing obvious. You?”

  “You saw the artifacts downstairs, but nothing that screamed, ‘I’m your answer’. I suspect if it was our guy, they took whatever they were looking for or simply burned any evidence in the office.”


  It had been Josh who’d recruited Reese five decades ago into the underground vampire military operation. The Rogue Investigative Seizure and Elimination Network, better known as RISEN, had been formed in the United States by the vampire tribunal during prohibition. Their existence was highly classified.

  RISEN kept a presence everywhere vampires congregated. The acronym was tongue and cheek, but their mission was dead serious. RISEN worked to help vampires blend in with the human population and when necessary, control rogues who broke the unwritten codes set forth by the vampire tribunal. Not the least of which was learning to live on animal blood or feeding without killing or turning mortals into bloodthirsty creatures of the night. Reese himself hadn’t touched human blood since joining the RISEN ranks.

  It was Glenn Karr who had alerted the tribunal a little over a year ago to the number of vampire deaths occurring in the California mountains. Their bodies had been burned beyond recognition, in fires that had all been ruled accidental. There weren’t many ways to kill an immortal, but searing the flesh from their bones certainly guaranteed a final end. The tribunal had acted immediately, planting Josh and Reese in the local fire department in hopes of getting closer to any evidence that would bring down the murderer.

  Reese had been happy to answer the call. Glenn Karr was a hero to many. Well known throughout the vampire population as a kind and gentle mentor, he’d been there for Reese in the late eighteenth century. Pulled into a swamp and gorged on by several vampires, Reese had been near death when Glenn fought them off and took him back to his cabin. It had been Glenn’s own blood that pulled Reese from the arms of death into immortality. And though the years had been dragging recently, Reese was mostly satisfied with his life now that he was doing something worthwhile for RISEN.

  But Josh and Reese hadn’t discovered any new information and RISEN had thrown Ronan Nason, a new recruit, into the mix six months ago. With his chemistry background, it had only made sense to put him undercover at the university working with the professor and Alex.