by Tracy Tappan
“There’s no time for discussion,” Roth plowed over her. “If Candace was tortured, we have to assume the Om Rău were able to extract information from her. We must go into full shutdown right away.”
“No.” Jaċken chopped a hand through the air. “Full shutdown is too drastic for the amount of information we have.”
Tonĩ frowned. “What’s full shutdown?”
Jaċken reached for his cell phone. “Let my men and I confirm this before—”
“Confirm how?” Roth’s jaw could’ve rivaled Jaċken’s for hardness. “It’s daylight topside.” Roth moved toward a metal lock-box on the far wall. “Every moment we wait is a further risk to our lives. Our enemy could be breaking into one of our elevators even as we stand here deliberating.”
Jaċken followed him over. “Dammit, Roth! Stop!”
Roth spun the combination lock and jerked open the metal door, exposing a button not unlike those used for the community’s 911 system.
“Don’t.” Jaċken planted his hands on his hips, looking like he wanted to stop Roth physically—maybe, in the process, ripping an arm off—but the Vârcolac were still a little funny about going against their leaders. “You’ll cut us off from everything.”
“Would somebody please tell me what a full shutdown is?” Tonĩ demanded sharply.
Alex’s heart tripped. He was beginning to get nervous about that, too.
“We must consider ourselves breached,” Roth ground out. “Shutting down the community is our only recourse.” He slammed his hand against the button.
“Uh, oh,” Alex breathed as the world instantly went black.
Chapter Forty-two
Not a soul in sight.
Not a sound to be heard, except for the scuff of Dev’s boots on the rocky cave floor and the soft, steady tap-tap of his rifle muzzle hitting a button on his trench coat.
Ţărână was the darkest he’d ever seen it…no lights inside a cave, go figure. Only dim yellow security lighting filtered out from the occasional corner. The whole scene gave off an eerie, abandoned vibe, like a ghost town, empty of life. Shops and homes were shut up tight, doors locked and curtains drawn, everyone probably huddled around flashlights and trying not to let full-on panic set in too deeply. Made the place feel damned creepy.
Fucking Roth. The man had butted his nose in where it didn’t belong—in security—and now they were all stuck in a full shutdown, water and electricity switched off and being rationed, all contact with the outside world disabled: comm. plus the elevators. That amounted to Dev being completely cut off from Marissa; she couldn’t get to him and he couldn’t get to her. And right at a time when, oh, the Topside Om Rău just happened to be torturing the community’s women.
Dev gritted out a curse, locking his molars together.
The thin beam of a penlight swept over him, then Arc Costache resolved out of the shadows, dressed all in black and sporting as many knives as his body could hold. “Hey.”
Dev jerked his chin in greeting.
No rest for the warriors when the community went to pot. The men had been up all night, pacing the town, keeping things safe down here while they figured out how the hell to get up there. The idea had been tossed around that Candace’s murder was being used as a ploy to distract them, perhaps getting the Vârcolac to divert all of their resources topside so that Jøsnic could attack, making good on his threat against Beth and Hannah. It wouldn’t be the first time the Topside and the Underground Om Rău had worked together. Jøsnic probably hadn’t figured on the Vârcolac being doofus enough to get themselves stuck in Ţărână…but it was only a matter of time before he found out.
Yeah, well…good luck to Jøsnic on launching an attack. Arc had an eat-shit-and-die look stamped on his face that suggested the likelihood of anyone getting through him to his extremely pregnant wife was damned slim.
Dev checked anyway. “Any action over by the tunnels?”
“No, everything’s chill,” Arc answered, then countered with his own question. “What’s the word on Cleeve and Alex’s progress?”
The community’s two IT guys were struggling to hack through the time-locks of shutdown and get systems back online as fast as possible. But with only one computer at their disposal, things were moving teeth-gratingly slow.
“No word, except—”
The security lighting snapped off, dousing the cave in inky blackness.
There was a far off, frightened cry from the direction of the residential neighborhood.
“Great,” Arc drawled. “Just what the women need is more of the heebie-jeebies.”
Dev growled a breath. All of the warriors felt like total failures when their females didn’t feel safe.
Thomal jogged toward them, the beam of his penlight swinging crazily.
“Hey, Thomal,” Dev called, “you got any idea why the security lighting just went out?” Something Dev could’ve radioed in to ask, if they had any fucking comm. Disabling inner-town communication was pretty stupid-ass, but the whole shutdown system had been installed back in the days when there hadn’t been the technology for differentiation. After this fiasco, he bet there’d be a whole lot of updating going on.
Thomal slowed and stopped, clicking off his penlight. “Alex got one of the elevators up and running, but he had to divert all auxiliary electricity to do it. It’s sunset, Dev, and Jaċken wants the Special Ops Topside Team to check the security of all the entrances.”
“We’re heading up?” Dev was all over that idea. “Halle-fucking-lujah.”
Thomal jammed the penlight into his back pocket. “Jaċken’s taking my place on the team, so that I can stay here with Arc.”
Arc’s eyebrows lifted. “I wasn’t aware I needed babysitting.”
“Yeah, sorry.” Thomal winced. “Beth just went into labor.”
Wave bye-bye to Arc.
“She—?”Arc’s eyes nearly bulged from their sockets. “No,” he denied hoarsely. “She can’t have the baby now. We’re in the middle of a shutdown.”
“I don’t think your kid’s aware of that.” Thomal grabbed his brother’s shoulder. “Beth is gonna be fine, Arc. Doc Jess is jerry-rigging some equipment for her. Let’s head over.” Thomal pulled his brother in the direction of the hospital, calling over his shoulder to Dev, “Meet the team at the four-man in the east corner of Stânga Town.”
The passenger-only elevator? That was actually a good idea. The rarely-used elevator was tucked away at the end of a long tunnel. He doubted many of the Travelers knew about it, making it the safest option for avoiding a topside ambush.
“Stay tight,” Thomal added, then double-timed it off with Arc in tow.
Sedge, Gábor, and Jaċken were already waiting by the long, dark passageway when Dev arrived. They made one helluva grim group. He didn’t know which was worse, a guy being cut off from a mate who was stuck topside, like he and Sedge were; Kimberly was either at her law firm or her apartment, probably none the wiser about the possible threat to her safety. Or having to leave his woman behind here in uncertain danger, like Jaċken and Gábor.
“Arc fucked up?” Jaċken asked.
“Yes.”
Jaċken paused, then nodded stiffly. “He’ll be okay. Let’s do this thing. Nichita and Pavenic, you’re on point.”
Jaċken put his hand on Dev’s shoulder; Sedge did the same with Gábor. Then the two of them with Pure-bred eyes set their retinas on flashlight-mode and led the way down the black-as-pitch tunnel.
When they reached the elevator, Jaċken moved over to the control panel. “Give me some more light over here, Nichita.” He waved Dev closer, then punched in the door-release code.
Nothing happened.
Jaċken muttered under his breath and pressed the intercom button. “Alex, you there?”
“Yes.”
“What the fuck? The doors aren’t opening.”
“Uh, I know, sorry. Unfortunately, the elevator codes were all erased when the community shut down. I have to reset ever
ything.” They heard computer keys clacking over the intercom. “Just punch in 4-8-4-8 for now.”
Jaċken braced a hand on the side of the elevator. “Is that the same code I’ll use to get back in?”
There was a pause that lasted a second too long. “Um…I’d have Plan B ready to go, just in case.”
Jaċken pinched the bridge of his nose. “Well, this mission is off to a splendid start.”
Dev dimmed his retinas as he slid his gaze over to his boss. Kind of not his usual badass self right now, was he?
Jaċken punched in the new code and the doors cranked open.
The four of them stepped inside.
“Hey, Jaċken,” Alex’s voice came out of the intercom again. “As soon as those doors close, we’ll be cut off from all communication. So, um, good luck, okay? Tonĩ, she…she really loves—”
“Got it.” Jaċken rammed his forefinger into the close button and the doors thunked shut.
Not a great time for a warrior to get all squishy inside.
The elevator jerked, then rose, clank, clank, clank, like a dumbwaiter being hauled up from Hell.
Gábor stared up at the elevator’s fluorescent lights, watching them flicker. “Fuck, I hope the electricity holds.”
Dev glanced upward, too. How fun would that be to get stuck mid-ride, one-half mile deep in the earth with nothing but a whole lot of climbing to do in either direction?
They rode in tense, ready silence. Dev rolled his head from side to side, loosening up his neck. Twenty minutes of this was going to be a killer.
Sedge glanced over at Jaċken. “Facing death’s tougher now that you’re going to be a dad, isn’t it?”
Dev stopped fidgeting and fixated on the elevator’s open-close buttons. If the Topside Om Rău had somehow found out about this elevator exit and were waiting for them, then they’d be walking into one helluva shake and bake. But, shit, it was kind of an unspoken rule not to talk about the possibility of dying before a job. Or ever.
Jaċken didn’t answer. For a minute Dev thought he was following the tacit agreement not to jinx the mission, but then he did speak. “Tonĩ cried when she said goodbye. She tried not to, but she did.”
“Shit,” Gábor murmured. “I couldn’t even face Chelsea.”
Sedge swung his rifle up, resting the stock on his shoulder. “Welcome to married life, gentlemen.”
Dev snorted. More like welcome to— “Aargh!”
Together, the three other warriors turned to look at Dev, their eyes dropping to the hand he had pressed to his breastbone.
Jaċken’s eyebrows stabbed together. “Your radar?”
Dev’s mouth went dry. “It feels like it. Fuck!” Something was wrong with Marissa.
“Any reason to believe that Marissa would’ve left her hotel?” Jaċken asked.
“No,” Dev gritted.
“Then you need to assume she’s safe, Nichita.”
“Well, my fucking chest is saying otherwise, Jaċken.” Ow. This was open heart surgery performed with a spork.
“Jaċken’s right,” Sedge said. “My radar’s been doing a number on me, too, Dev. I think we’re all just spooked.”
Dev rubbed his sternum with the flat of his palm and took an uneven breath. Okay…okay, yeah. The pain was lessening a bit now.
Shaking his head, Gábor faced forward again. “What a group we make.”
They rode the rest of the way in silence. Minutes reeled by, one after the other. Could this elevator move any slower? The damned box finally bumped to a halt.
Jaċken was fully back in the game now; if they’d needed to dig themselves out of the cave, his jaw was hard enough to do it. He gestured them into position.
Dev and Gábor moved to stand on either side of the doors while Jaċken and Sedge knelt down at their sides, all of them with their rifles jacked back against their shoulders.
Jaċken reached up and pushed the open button.
Dev breathed slowly through his nostrils as the doors slid open onto a hallway off a parking garage, a door at the end, a stairway off to the right.
The muscles along Dev’s shoulders snapped taut. He applied steady pressure to his trigger—then released. Nobody.
They didn’t have a clear view through the door, though.
Jaċken rose smoothly to his feet and gestured Dev to the stairway for a better visual.
Holding his rifle in one hand, Dev ran two steps and grabbed the railing with his other, inhumanly managing his entire body weight with one arm as he swung himself up and over. He landed silently on the stairs right across from the door, adrenaline blasting through him. He brought up his M4 again and sighted along the stock. Clear.
He gestured to his team.
Jaċken flowed in a half-crouch down the hall, weapon raised. He surged through the door, scanning the entire garage. “Clear,” he said.
They experienced a collective tension power-down.
“One secured,” Sedge said. “Only three more entrances to go.” Sedge’s cell beeped the arrival of a message. “Whoa, what’s up with this?” He reached for the phone on his belt. “I thought we were off-comm.”
“It’s coming from up here,” Jaċken said.
Sedge looked down at his cell screen. “It’s from Kimberly. She wants me to call her.” His mouth curved into a distracted frown. “This message was sent hours ago.”
Jaċken cracked open the stock of his rifle and checked the ammo. “It couldn’t get through to you down in Ţărână, so it’s just been up here floating around on airwaves until we—” Jaċken’s cell phone beeped.
A second later Gábor’s.
They exchanged looks.
Grimly, Jaċken checked his phone. “Mine’s from Kimberly, too. She wants me to call.”
Gábor looked down at his screen, looked up. Nodded.
Sedge’s hand absently lifted to his breastbone.
Dev’s phone beeped. Three pairs of intense eyes watched him pull his cell out of the thigh pocket of his black cargo pants and read the message. Where is everybody, for God’s sake? Call right away! Kimberly. Dev’s throat clamped. “Mine’s from Kimberly, too, and she sounds urgent.”
Sedge whitened. With overly precise fingers, he dialed his phone, then lifted it to his ear.
Dev watched him, feeling antsy. If Sedge’s radar was pinging for a real reason, had Dev’s been, too?
“Shit,” Sedge ground out. “Our comm is still screwed up. No outgoing calls, just incoming messages.”
Jaċken slammed his rifle back into the holster across his back. “Move out,” he ordered.
They became the night.
They raced over rooftops, harnessing the power of the moon and the stars, effortlessly flying across the wide chasms that separated one building from the next. On the ground, they slipped invisibly from one patch of shadow to the next. Civilians on the street might sense a shift in the air around them when they passed, but that was all. They were Vârcolac in their element.
They headed to Kimberly’s office first. If she wasn’t there, they’d go to her topside apartment, and after that…nobody wanted to think about after that. It brought up too many images of finding her tortured body in a dumpster.
The four of them landed noiselessly on the roof of Kimberly’s two-story office bungalow. Light glowed in her window: good news, hopefully.
Below on the street, a man walked his dog.
Crouched low to the shingles, Dev paced the two. Keeping his breathing even, he drew deep quiet lungfuls of the night into his chest, filling himself with otherworldly power. Times like these, he hated living in a cave.
Man and dog disappeared around a corner.
At a gesture from Jaċken, Dev and Gábor remained poised on the edge of the roof while Sedge and Jaċken slipped soundlessly to the second floor balcony.
Sedge handed his rifle to Jaċken, gesturing his boss to stay back, then just walked through the door.
Mouth tight, Jaċken pressed against the wall.
&nb
sp; “Sedge!” Kimberly exclaimed.
“Hey, Berly baby. I brought you some chocolates.”
“Where the hell have you been?! I’ve been trying to get in touch with you all day!”
There was an expelled sigh. “That’s not the way you’re supposed to answer the code. ‘Yes, I love chocolates’ means that there’re no bad guys lurking about. ‘No’ is…”
Jaċken looked up at Dev and Gábor, one eyebrow lifted at a sardonic angle. “I guess we’re clear,” he whispered, then pushed into the office.
Dev and Gábor descended fluidly to the balcony and followed him inside.
Sedge was pulling his wife into a relieved embrace, but the moment Kimberly saw Dev, she broke free and rushed over to him.
“Thank God, you’re here,” she cried out. “It’s Marissa, Dev! He took her!”
Dev slammed to a halt, his chest collapsing. He?
Kimberly clutched his forearm, her complexion chalk-white. “I was left behind to give you a message.”
Dev felt the oxygen leave his lungs. He felt his palms turn to ice. “What message?” he snarled. His eyes exploded with Pure-bred fire as the first winds of an incredible tornado of fury whirled to life inside him.
Chapter Forty-three
Topside, 8:17 p.m.
“Please, don’t do this,” Marissa begged, gripping the edge of the limousine’s leather seat.
Her captor didn’t get a chance to respond.
They appeared suddenly, dropping from the tops of the tall buildings with cat-like stealth, landing silently in the alley on widespread legs. Motionless as shadowed night, they stood just beyond the beam of the limousine’s headlights, three sets of massive shoulders silhouetted against a single streetlamp further down the alleyway.
A primordial hush descended with them; traffic noises faded to an indiscriminate, rambling hum, and the night watch at the nearby 32nd Street Naval shipyard stopped their shouting and hammering. Off to the right, a manhole cover belched out a steady boil of steam, wispy fingers that wended around their legs and trailed up their bodies like a ghost’s caress.
