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Shadows of Fire

Page 12

by Nina Pierce


  “Maybe you should take him home with you.”

  “He’s definitely better off here.” She kissed the cat’s head and set him on the floor. “How about that ride to … the farm.”

  “Yeah, it’s getting late.” Reese bundled her into the Buick and they headed up the road, both of them lost in their thoughts.

  They’d barely acknowledged the death of the man they both loved. Alex wasn’t sure how she was going to handle seeing the destruction that had taken Glenn’s life. When she’d left last night with Ronan, the fire had still been raging. She’d snuck out of the bathroom window at the tavern intending to go to the farm, collect her car and leave South Kenton in her rear view mirror. But one turn and a slight detour and she’d found herself at Reese’s cabin. Her heart had a destination even if it hadn’t informed her head.

  This day had turned out just as she’d hoped. Alex couldn’t have asked for more tender memories to take with her. But it had been selfish of her involving Reese Colton. She wondered if he’d ever forgive her when he learned her secrets. And she had no doubt, despite the death of the professor—or perhaps because of it— everything about their experiments would come to light.

  Josh was right in one aspect—Reese was blinded. But it wasn’t his groin blocking his vision. She suspected it was his heart. She’d felt it in every tender caress and heard it in every quiet whisper.

  Reese pulled into Glenn’s driveway. Alex sat in stunned silence staring at the burnt remains of the barn. One side lay crumpled in on itself, a defeated warrior unable to stand against its hellish foe. Half-moons of soot marred the red siding above the windows. Rain dripped from the charred roof, making the barn look as if it were weeping over Glenn’s passing.

  “We’re going to find the person who started this fire and make everything right,” Reese said.

  She couldn’t do this to him, not after the man had admitted he hadn’t loved since losing his wife. He deserved so much more than what she could give him. “You need to go.” The words clawed their way out of her throat.

  “And you need your keys.” He flipped down his visor, catching them in his hand. “I grabbed them from your ignition last night.”

  “Thank you.” She leaned in and accepted the gentle brush of his lips. He didn’t try to stop her when she rushed to her car without a backward glance. Tires squealed and gravel pinged off rocker panels as Reese backed out of the driveway, leaving Alex utterly alone.

  Details and events had become shuffled and confused over the last twenty-four hours as her body had begun to shut down. But one thing was certain … her Honda had been parked beside the barn when she’d followed John into the woods last night—not parked in the driveway behind Glenn’s truck.

  * * * *

  Clouds shrouded the moon as he moved through the abandoned field. Some caring neighbor had probably come in today and no doubt sheltered the wayward animals. Just as well. After tonight, pig blood would no longer be needed for that heinous concoction that passed as vampire sustenance. Glenn’s death was another step in solidifying that.

  Vampires were nocturnal creatures. Born of blood, they lived by blood. To hell with modern views to the contrary. Ridding South Kenton of the contemptuous vampires who had weakened themselves with that chemical concoction had been necessary. Though Glenn’s death should have been the end, the realization that one more fire would be needed to complete the purification spurred the monster forward.

  Under the cloak of darkness, he’d searched Glenn’s house but found nothing. Either Glenn hadn’t discovered anything of consequence at the professor’s office at the university or he’d hidden it well. Had there been more time last evening, it would have been a pleasure to coax the information from the vampires’s bloody lips.

  But misdirection required precision. The setup left in the barn fire could not have been more perfect. Killing the crazed vamp who’d stumbled upon Glenn’s demise had been an added pleasure. Staking the body to the pentagram was nothing short of pure genius. Already gossip of Glenn’s occult practices had begun to spread. Small towns survived on grist from the rumor mill. The lies about his satanic practices had been whispered in the man’s own tavern tonight, for chrissake.

  Getting rid of the nosy reporter and her car after Glenn had resurrected her—sublime.

  It filled him with great pleasure that he’d coordinated every ruse to the smallest detail. It was all falling into place so much easier than he’d imagined.

  Now, he needed to cleanup any lingering proof that implicated him instead of Alex. He couldn’t believe how easy it had been to frame the insipient vampire. Alexandra Flanagan was a fool and an idealist who needed to be held up as an example of misguided vampire morality. Once he located and destroyed every scrap of the professor’s work, including details of the fires he’d set, there would be no way the tribunal would overlook her transgressions.

  If Glenn had stolen evidence from the professor’s office—information that would no doubt spur others to follow in his footsteps—it was imperative he locate it and be sure it didn’t fall into the wrong hands. He’d worked too hard at stopping the foolish professor’s experiments to be thwarted by another confused enthusiast who didn’t understand the true place of vampires in human evolution.

  Standing on the back steps of the farm house, he listened to an owl cry a victory song in the darkness and its prey scream a death wail. It was a haunting sound that called to the murderer’s heart. “Life taken to give life.” The creed rode on the gentle breeze.

  The rain had slowed around midnight and now, nearly an hour later, had finally stopped. It would make the long walk back to the bridge where his car was parked a pleasant stroll. The heavy boots clomped down the stairs and across the driveway. Clouds skittered across the sky and opened. A full moon beamed in all its glory upon the blackened barn, the rays of light stretching to illuminate Glenn’s vehicle. An obvious sign that couldn’t be ignored.

  With a confident stride, he walked across the driveway and stood at the cab of the truck. The moon glittered off a metal ring hanging on the shifter. He opened the door and leaned in, retrieving the key. And that’s when he found the leather satchel peeking out from beneath the seat.

  Fate had smiled down once again.

  Chapter Eight

  Alex’s muscles seized, her teeth gritting against the pain. Like a junky in desperate need of a fix, her shaking fingers barely gripped the steering wheel. With relief, she pulled in to the shadowed corner of the nearly empty tavern parking lot and shut off her car. Only Chris’s Jeep remained. It was unlike Chris to stay longer than it took to clean out the deep fryer and scrub down the sinks. Closing time had come and gone. She had no idea why he hadn’t left with it.

  Well, she’d just have to wait him out. Hugging herself tightly against the bone-crushing chill, Alex wondered why she was sweating. Damn, she’d screwed her life up. Her decisions and unfortunate circumstances had stolen the only two men she’d ever loved from her.

  Alex turned and rummaged through a gym bag in the back seat. Finding a washcloth, she mopped her brow. The sporty Honda held everything she owned. Not wanting someone else to clean up her mess, she’d cleared out her furnished apartment, left enough cash on the kitchen table to cover the month’s rent, with a little something extra for the sweet landlord, and walked away.

  She’d had every intention of confessing all of her secrets to Glenn, but someone had stolen that opportunity from her. There had been no sense sharing them with Reese this morning. A vampire like him would never understand how self-loathing had driven her all these months. He was one of the true breed, a vampire revered for his honor and commitment to the species. No doubt, he would take Glenn’s place as a mentor to the broken and down-trodden, teaching them to embrace their nature.

  It was too late for her.

  Her only path now was to turn herself over the vampire tribunal and accept her fate. A death at their hands would be better than the living hell Alex was experiencing—a h
ell she’d helped forge.

  Sadness ripped at her heart and caught in her throat. She couldn’t hold back the flood of tears that streamed down her cheeks. If ever she needed the comfort of Reese’s embrace and the soft whispers of his encouragement, it was now. But it was too late to wish for such things.

  Now, Alex just needed to get into the tavern undetected and grab some blood wine one last time. She hoped it would be enough to relieve the tremors and nausea and allow her to drive to Montana. She’d be in tribunal custody by the time they gathered for Glenn’s funeral the day after tomorrow.

  Lights flicked in the kitchen window in the back corner of the building. Finally, Chris was shutting things down and leaving. Alex narrowed her eyes and looked closer. The lights hadn’t gone out; they were pulsing, a sickly yellow-orange—a kitchen fire. Without thought for her own safety, Alex ran into the tavern. The muted glow behind the bar wrapped the tables and chairs in a soft blue haze. Even without the light, her feet would have known the way to the kitchen.

  “Chris!” she yelled frantically.

  Pushing through the swinging door, she saw the pan flaring on the stove. Fire cracked and popped as flames rose over the ventilation hood. Burning oil sent black smoke rolling up the wall. Pulling the fire extinguisher from its brackets near the sink, she yanked out the pin and squeezed the handle. The first shot of chemical agent splattered the liquid fire. Chaotic bits of flame flitted along the counter and floor. Alex feared the fire would spread faster than she could control it. But with steady, sweeping motions, the dry chemical fought back the flames. Without oxygen to feed its hunger, it sputtered and died.

  She leaned her hip against the island, trembling and gasping from the surge of adrenaline. Putting out the fire had zapped what little energy she had left. Her knees buckled. She grabbed the counter to keep from falling. Her heated blood boiled through her veins, burning its way into her muscles making her shaky and weak. Each nerve shouted protests and her stomach heaved. In the months since this began, no episode had ever taken such control over her.

  “Chris!” she called again. There was no answer. Maybe he’d gone home with Tony and carelessly left the pan on the stove. It didn’t make sense. But, at the moment, nothing in her confused mind made any sense. Alex could only hope some blood wine and crackers would stay down this time and help get her back to some semblance of normal. But the way her skin crawled with unseen bugs, she suspected it wouldn’t help. Without Glenn or the professor, there was no one to turn to for guidance. After tonight, she’d be on her own and that thought frightened her more than all others. With her life in ruins, she’d rather die than be turned back into the monster she’d seen in the mirror the past three decades.

  On trembling legs, Alex made her way to the cellar door and flicked on the lights. Cautiously, she descended the stairs. Tight bands of trepidation wrapped around her stomach and squeezed. She was being foolish. She’d been down here countless times by herself, hauling up cases of liquor or other supplies. It was her own guilt sitting in the shadowed corners, tickling the back of her neck and clawing along her scalp.

  “Get whatever wine is here. Get out and don’t look back.” Hearing her own voice helped press away the gloom. Pulling keys from her pocket, Alex worked one into the lock of the wine cellar, but the handle turned with ease. “Chris, you in here?” she called. Despite numerous reprimands by both she and Glenn, the kid left it unlocked all the time. She supposed it no longer mattered since neither she nor Glenn would be around to keep the winery going. Few humans had been trusted with the secrets behind these doors, but Chris was one of the good ones.

  Light from the stairwell speared into the tiny office. Her sneakers squeaked across the damp cement floor as she sought out the string. Her foot kicked something soft and she stumbled, coming down on a body. Slick and wet, Alex tried to push away from it, but arms and clothing meshed with hers, making it hard to get away. Her screams echoed off the stone wall as she untangled herself and crab-walked back toward the door.

  “Alex?” a voice called from the kitchen. “Alex, is that you down there? Is everything all right?”

  Feet pounded down the stairs.

  Her throat grew raw, but she couldn’t stop screaming for help.

  “Alex! Are you all right?” Ronan ran into the office and knelt beside her. She gripped the lapels of his coat as if they were lifelines anchoring her sanity.

  “He’s dead.”

  “My God, Alex. What happened?” His gaze searched her face.

  She saw Ronan’s lips move, but his words didn’t penetrate the fear. “Chris. It’s Chris.” She knew it without seeing the face. “I think he’s dead.”

  “Let me turn on the light.”

  “No, don’t leave me.”

  “I’m not leaving you. Just standing to turn on the light.”

  “He’s there, under the light. Don’t step on him.” Her face fell into her icy hands. “Don’t step on him. Oh, Chris.”

  Light filtered through her fingers, but she didn’t want to look. Pain gripped her head in its talons while a blanket of needles wrapped around her body. Seeing Chris would just bring on the nausea she’d successfully held in check.

  “Alex. What have you done?” Ronan’s words scratched across her skin.

  She forced her head up. Blood pooled on the floor around Chris. Splashes of it painted the walls and the ceiling. The sight and smell roiled the acid in her stomach and she worked hard to keep from puking. “Me?” The word came out weak.

  “Thank God it was me that stopped by. We can clean this up. No one has to know.”

  Ronan was looking around as if trying to help cover up the mess. Why would he help her? He should be hauling her away.

  “These things happen. I understand.”

  “But I—”

  He stepped to her and pulled Alex to her feet. “It’s okay. It’s our secret. The killings. The fires. I understand why you had to do it.” The words tripped off Ronan’s tongue. “Blood wine is an abomination. An insult to the vampire’s nature. It had to be destroyed.”

  “No, I—”

  “Don’t you see? I can keep this from the tribunal. I’m in the perfect position to hide everything.” Ronan held her face in his hands. “Alex. I’ll protect you. No one has to find out it was you. We’ll go away where no one knows us.” Madness sparked in his eyes. “We’ll start a new life together away from South Kenton. We’ll feed together and bring new humans into the fold.”

  The thought of sucking someone’s blood gagged her, causing her stomach to lurch. Bloody vomit splattered on the floor and mingled with Chris’s blood. Alex collapsed against the stone wall.

  Ronan stepped back, revulsion contorting his face. “What part of that sickens you, Alexandra?” He continued to move toward the desk, putting distance between them. “The thought of making a life with me or you living as a true vampire?” Deadly anger rode tight on his words.

  “Your accent? What happened to your accent?”

  “Grow up. We’re all playing parts here. With Glenn and the professor both gone, I don’t need that foolish masquerade.”

  “Please help me, I’m … I’m not well.” She swiped a shaky hand across her mouth. “I just need some of Glenn’s wine to make me feel better.” Truthfully, she no longer believed it would help. Alex hung suspended between worlds, no longer able to process blood, incapable of digesting food. She would surely die of malnourishment. She wondered if this was how John had felt the night he’d died. Death would be a welcome relief to the slow torture twisting her insides like cords of rope. Ronan swam in her vision and Alex held on to consciousness by a thin thread.

  “Drink from Chris. As you can see, I’ve already had my fill, but there should be enough left for you.”

  She looked down at her dead co-worker. His neck bore the slash marks of Ronan’s feeding. Her stomach heaved. “You did this? Why?”

  “Because he was a weak human, inferior in every way. He believed in helping me that I wo
uld give him immortality.” Ronan scoffed. “He couldn’t see how I was simply using him. He was no more worthy of being a vampire than you.” The chill in his tone froze her heart. “And like every one of his pedestrian species—he was expendable.”

  A small pop sounded above them as if something had fallen to the floor.

  “And so the final end begins.” Ronan’s smile held no mirth.

  “What else have you done?”

  “A small fire to finally finish it all.”

  “Finish what?”

  Ronan leaned casually against the desk and crossed his feet at the ankles. “What began long before you became this.” His hand swept the length of her. “With everything gone, do you really think you’ll survive?”

  “I’m not dying. I have some sort of flu. People rarely die from the flu.” She wrapped her arm around her torso, pressing her forearm against the pain.

  “RISEN operatives have nothing on you, my sweet, Alexandra.” His demented laugh echoed painfully through her head. “But please don’t insult me,” he said. “Look at you. Sweat beads on your brow, but you shiver as if it were December. Your eyes are bloodshot. You puke at the sight of blood. I have no doubt your head is throbbing like the percussion section of an orchestra. Your muscles are so weak, you can barely stand up. I know the signs. Tell me, have you tried eating anything but the chemical gruel he makes for you? A nice juicy steak perhaps?”

  She gagged again, unable to process how Ronan knew what she needed.

  “Ah, not quite there are you?” He opened a briefcase on the desk and pulled a vial of yellow serum from its folds. “RISEN would love to get their hands on this. The good professor will never know if he’d actually stumbled on the formula to re-code vampire DNA and make immortals human again. Does Reese know you’d become a lab rat?”

  Alex clenched her teeth against the wave of agony burning over her nerves. She wanted to get her hands on the vial and inject it—let the sweet elixir sear through her veins and wash away the agony and nausea, but she refused to beg. “There are copies of the professor’s work. The knowledge didn’t die with him.” Lifting her chin, she met his accusatory stare.

 

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