The meeting location was a short distance away, with only one jump over an alley that provided not even the tiniest problem. She took a short break once, to check on Thomas, and wasn't surprised to see that despite his head start she was ahead of him.
A string of take-out restaurants and a liquor store lined the block along Taylor Avenue. Even with the late hour some were still open. She crouched on the edge of the roof, looking over the intersection below. There were still plenty of mortals moving about. Couples, groups, the occasional homeless man.
Thomas made his way to the corner, leaning against a bench. His eyes darted about nervously. Whether he was looking for Victoria or the mystery man, she wasn't sure.
Victoria saw him before Thomas did. The security footage from the Vermilion wasn't the best, but she recognized him all the same.
Finally seeing him with her own eyes, the information started pouring in. He stood on the opposite side of the street, searching for Thomas as well. He spotted him and waited for the traffic light to change. The way he stood, the way he moved, there was no question he was mortal. He looked like he might have been impaired in some way, with alcohol or drugs.
The light changed, and he slowly walked across the street. Thomas waited patiently, still looking about nervously.
Despite Thomas being a vampire, only Victoria heard the gunshot.
She'd heard enough silenced rifles in her life to know exactly what it was. Blood sprayed from the man's head and he collapsed in the middle of the intersection. A red pool spread out from his skull. Cars trying to turn onto Fifth Avenue stopped, and several horns sounded at once. It was only when three drivers left their cars and inspected closer did the startled screams and shouts begin.
Thomas was long gone before then. He took two steps toward the dead man in the crosswalk, then ran. Victoria didn't blame him.
She kept her composure as she dropped lower on the roof, nearly cat-like in posture. Her eyes went to the other rooftops nearby. The shooter had fired a single shot, accurately hitting her target in the head. Victoria knew the shooter wasn't another drug dealer settling a score, but a professional. A professional would take the shot from an elevated position.
With her night vision, it didn't take long to find him. A figure, built like a man, had retreated to the center of a rooftop across the street. Like Victoria, he was dressed in all black. He was in the middle of disassembling his weapon, storing it carefully in a case.
Victoria didn't hesitate. She stepped off the building, falling to the ground below. A drop that would have broken a mortal's legs only slowed her for a second. She sprinted across the street, drawing confused expressions from the others nearby. She didn't exactly move like a blur, but the mortal mind had trouble keeping up with a vampire running at full speed.
A car stopped in front of her, blocking her path. She slid across the hood and launched forward. Landing on the cab of a truck, she jumped again, this time onto the roof of her destination. She didn't climb up immediately, choosing instead to pull herself up with one arm, just enough to peek over the edge.
The assassin walked away from her, toward the back alleys behind Fifth Avenue. He didn't have a care in the world, unaware that one woman had spotted him.
Victoria waited until he was winding his way down a fire escape before completing her pull-up and rolling onto the roof. She moved on the tips of her toes. Not full speed, but still faster than the average mortal. She didn't make a sound, but could hear him ahead. His steady, calm breathing. The rattling of the fire escape. There was also the sound of a car below, its engine running.
Reaching the edge of the roof, she peered down. She glanced ahead of her to study the layouts of the nearby rooftops, in case she had to pursue the car on foot. It turned out that wasn't necessary. The assassin handed the case to someone in the car, and it drove down the alley, leaving him behind. She watched as he casually walked in the opposite direction, his hands in his pockets.
She kept to the rooftops, shadowing his every move. He walked the streets of Baltimore for nearly a half hour, even stopping at a late-night deli for a sandwich. She locked away every detail about him that she could. Medium build and height, dark hair, fair complexion. Certainly mortal. She wanted to get close enough to investigate his scent. With his scent, she'd be able to sense his presence in a crowded room, but she didn't dare take the risk.
He eventually took a path away from the busy city streets, and she had to leave the rooftops to follow him. She kept a respectable distance, staying in the shadows, a comfortable place for her. He left the city behind and made his way to a trucking company. Trucks and trailers were lined up in a parking lot, but there wasn't a worker in sight. Victoria hid in a nearby tree as she watched him enter the yard and approach the empty dock. He knocked on the large door, and a moment later two men inside lifted it open.
Before moving forward, she studied everything she could see, hear, and smell. She looked for cameras, listened for watchdogs or patrolling security. The place smelled like a trucking company should. Gas, oil, dirt.
She jumped over the fence, not bothering at all with the gate. Halfway across the yard, another dock door opened. Light spilled out from the inside, nearly illuminating her for all to see. She jumped once again, this time onto the top of a big-rig truck next to her. Then she scurried onto the trailer, moving on her hands and feet with speed and grace.
Truck after truck left the yard. Moving vans and pickup trucks. Each vehicle had at least two people. Whatever was going on, of which Victoria still had no clue, involved a lot of manpower.
The last truck to leave paused on the way out. The driver went back inside to close the dock door, and then left through a smaller office door. Victoria waited several minutes, lying still on top of the trailer, before stepping off the side. She could hear insects, leaves rustling, trees swaying in the wind, a helicopter overhead. But nothing inside the trucking company.
She gripped the bottom of the dock door and lifted. It didn't budge, as it was locked from the inside. Victoria readjusted her grip, took a deep breath, and lifted again. She gritted her teeth as her muscles strained. The sound of metal straining against metal touched her ears. She wasn't sure if it was a padlock, or a chain through a hook in the floor. Ultimately, it didn't matter. She didn't have the ability to walk through walls, like Alex. Nor could she create portals, like a witch. But there was something to be said for old-fashioned, raw strength.
Whatever secured the dock door finally broke. Victoria eased the door up and went to her night vision. She wasn't sure what she expected to see. It had been a while since she'd seen the inside of a trucking company. But she knew what greeted her wasn't typical.
She flipped the switches on near the door, bathing the floor in light. Instead of palettes and forklifts, tables and desks were lined up in rows. There were power cables, monitors, and keyboards hooked to nothing. Outlines were on the floor of where computers once sat. She had the feeling she'd just witnessed the beginning of an evacuation.
White-boards on stands were spread out, covered with numbers and scribbled notes. Victoria fished her phone from her backpack and took several pictures.
"He told us you would never find this place," a voice said. "And not only did you find it, but in record time."
Victoria glanced up at the man stepping out of the shadows. She had been aware of him ever since she'd arrived, and wondered when he'd make his move. He wore a long coat and twirled an ax at his side.
"He?" she said. "Care to elaborate?"
He shook his head. Victoria smiled.
"Yeah. Didn't think so."
A second voice chimed in.
"And her accent. Very mysterious."
She raised her eyebrows as another man stepped out of an open office across the floor. She didn't notice him. He was just out of earshot. The new arrival carried a sword.
"Oh, wow," she said. "Speaking of mysterious. Hi, guys. I'm Victoria. May I ask your names?"
"Don't worry
about our names."
"This goes beyond you now."
Another clue. The two new men in her life were full of information.
"Ah. So, all of this—" She gestured to the empty desks and chairs, the white-boards surrounding them. "This is all about me?"
The newcomer glared at his partner, casting him a silent look of disapproval. If only she could keep them talking.
"Listen, guys. The weapons, you don't need them. We can talk about this. No one needs to get hurt. We have plenty of space here to sit down, relax, figure out what's going on—"
She didn't get to finish her proposal. The man armed with the sword ran across the floor, holding the weapon carefully behind him. He was skilled, of that Victoria knew.
Still, it didn't matter if the mortal had been training all his life. Victoria had been defending herself for centuries.
He used an empty table as a launching pad. His sword was cocked behind his head, ready to strike. She grabbed a nearby chair and held it up, as if she were battling a lion in a circus. One of the legs caught him under the chin, sending him to the floor.
She howled in pain as an ax was buried into her shoulder from behind. The distraction was just enough for the partner to move in. He ripped the ax away, and Victoria spun to confront him. The man on the floor took the opportunity to stab her in the calf. He twisted the blade before pulling it out.
Victoria rolled across a table to put space between them. Ax tended to Sword, helping him to his feet. The pair each took a combat stance, eying her like a wounded animal. She staggered back a step, putting a hand behind her calf. She could feel the blood running down her back.
Despite the pain, and the anger surfacing, she would give them one more chance.
"You have family?" she asked. "Think about that before we go any further here."
Apparently they were already done thinking.
Sword swung first. His movements were crisp and fast, but still mortal. She dodged easily. The problem came when Ax followed up his partner's attack with his own. He targeted a different body part, making Victoria twist at an odd angle. Every movement also caused intense agony from her wounds. They worked amazingly well together, forcing Victoria back with each attack. She swiped at Ax, catching him across the chest with a claw, but that only allowed Sword to slice her across the forearm. Wincing, she grabbed another weapon sitting loose on a desk next to her. A phone.
Victoria struck Sword in the hand with the phone, and the weapon bounced on the ground. One claw strike across the face brought him to one knee. Ax swung wildly, but she'd backed up just enough to only suffer a minor cut over her breasts, and not the crippling shot he'd hoped for. She moved back in and struck as she dropped the phone, punching with her left hand and swiping with her right. Ax stumbled, and she pressed the advantage. Victoria pinned him to the ground and exposed her fangs. She would drink him till near death, healing in the process.
She'd nearly clamped down onto his shoulder when she saw his expression.
Arrogance.
Ax wore a smug, confident arrogance. She hesitated, staring into his eyes.
"Go ahead," he whispered.
That's when it clicked in her mind.
Whatever it was that had killed the vampires at the Vermilion, it was flowing through his veins. If she drank from him, she would die.
It was the perfect defense for mortals against her kind.
The sword moved through her back and impaled her, exiting just below her ribcage. Her back arched at the sensation. It hurt to breathe as blood bubbled out of her mouth. Sword had recovered and attacked. Ax grabbed his weapon and pressed the handle against her throat.
"Hurry!" Ax said, searching nearby. A smile took hold. "Use one of the chair legs!"
Victoria wasn't sure what finally sent her over the edge. The arrogance, the smile, the pain racking her body. Her intent was to go easy on them, with hopes of interrogating them. That desire was completely gone.
She snarled as she gripped the blade of the sword at her stomach with one hand. Sword struggled behind her, trying to retrieve his weapon, but Victoria wouldn't let him. She grabbed Ax's hand and twisted, breaking his wrist. He grimaced and dropped his weapon, leaving him completely exposed. Her fingers bled from gripping the blade, but that didn't stop her. She leaned forward, taking the blade and Sword with her, and stabbed Ax in the throat. She made sure the blade sank good and deep before leaning back up.
Snapping the blade off, she jumped to her feet and whirled in place. Sword had lost his grip and stumbled backwards. Victoria closed the distance between them in an instant, jamming the broken blade in his shoulder. As furious as she was, she still had the sense not to deliver a fatal strike. She ripped the blade out and thrust it in his thigh, sending him to the ground.
Victoria surveyed the damage. One dead mortal, another wounded, and a very angry and injured vampire. She reached behind her and slowly pulled the broken sword from her back. It hurt to move. Her hand bled from grabbing the sword. Her body was sliced, diced, and punctured.
But she would live.
She threw the broken weapon on the ground and dropped to her knees next to Sword. He stared up at her in defiance, trying his best to scoot away on his back. She placed a hand on his injured shoulder and stuck her thumb inside his wound.
"We're going to talk," she said. "Or I'm going to rip you to pieces."
She squeezed tightly, trying to make her point. Sword tried to keep quiet, another act of defiance, but eventually let out a scream of pain.
"Okay, we understand each other. What is this place? What are you doing here?"
She didn't notice Sword digging in his pocket until it was too late. Grabbing his wrist, she pulled his hand free, expecting to see a tiny gun or dagger. Instead, he held what looked like a garage door opener. He'd already pressed the button.
A new smell touched her nose. More gasoline, and something vampires hated. Fire. She could guess what would happen next.
She gripped his head and snapped violently. Not caring about subtlety or keeping her strength in check, Sword's head was turned nearly backwards as the cracking sound filled her ears. She jumped to her feet and ran. Full speed eluded her. The mortals had really hurt her, but she pushed on. The small, controlled explosions started. She could feel the heat at her back, and she shoved the fear aside. Fire was the one thing that would definitely kill her.
She'd cleared the building, but the final explosion threw her forward. Her body slammed into the back of a trailer, and she fell to her hands and knees. She didn't bother risking a glance to the burning building before crawling away. Her eyes weren't necessary to know the trucking company was engulfed in flame.
It was a struggle to pull herself to her feet. Pressing a hand to her stomach, she limped out of the yard. It'd been some time since she was in so much pain.
But a little blood, and she'd be fine.
CHAPTER 17
Zoey sat motionless behind the wheel of the Jeep. She didn't even bother turning off the engine. Her mind was numb as she watched the small groups of men and women making their way inside the nightclub, flirting and touching.
Another nightclub. Somehow, she wasn't surprised. She didn't know Steven very well, but he was obviously a creature of habit.
Her journey was nearly over. The phone that Kevin had touched with his magic had done its job. The map was zoomed in as far as it would go, finally settling on the nightclub she observed in the town of Highland, Illinois. The red light continued to blink at her, but she no longer needed it.
She'd checked into a hotel around the corner an hour ago and simply stared into the mirror, gathering her courage. Finally, her chance had arrived. She was going to kill the man responsible for upending her life.
Or he was going to kill her.
She hadn't thought much outside of five-minute windows for the two past days. Where to hide from the sun, to get blood. Would the Jeep hold up? These were the only questions she thought about. But now that she sat f
ive-hundred feet away from her target, thoughts of the future took hold. There was the chance that she had no future. In thirty minutes, she could be dead. Or she could be back at the hotel, washing blood from her hands.
A tear ran down her cheek as she turned off the engine. She retrieved the notepad she'd taken from the hotel dresser and started composing a note. The words had been dancing in her head, but not coherently. She gave it her best effort to string them together while the single tear turned into several.
She thanked her parents, and wrote how much she loved them. She hoped that whatever the future held, they would be happy, even if they weren't together. She regretted if she had anything to do with the current marital problems they were experiencing.
Thoughts of Kylie were the most jumbled. Zoey apologized for everything that had happened, and how much she loved and missed her. They were best friends, and Kylie made her life a joy to endure during their time together. Zoey managed to smile at the thought that maybe Kylie was in the back seat behind her, holding hands with Nate.
She paused the pen as Victoria crossed her mind.
I'm very sorry, but I had to do this. I hope you understand. Thank you for giving me a chance when I thought I'd never see another. I don't deserve the kindness and friendship you've given me. I love you. Also, I'm sorry I took your credit cards and the Jeep.
Taking a deep breath, she shoved the note in the glove compartment. She wasn't happy with the words, and could probably spend another hour getting her thoughts together, but wasn't sure she had the time. The man she was going to kill wasn't going to wait while she wrote her goodbyes.
She left the Jeep and glanced at her reflection in the window. Her outfit, as simple as it was, had occupied her thoughts more than when she ever wanted to impress a guy. She wore a pair of black yoga pants and a turquoise shirt. It wasn't her goal to show off her figure, although she drew a few second looks from the passersby. All she was thinking about was movement. Whatever was going to happen with Steven, she didn't want loose clothes getting snagged on anything, distracting her.
Four Centuries (Damned and Cursed Book 7) Page 25
