Into the Flames

by Multi-Author

  He hated to think Alex had anything to do with hurting this man, but her presence made it hard to deny. What the hell was happening in South Kenton?

  “We’ve got someone. We need more water.” Reese called into his mic.

  Reese shut off the water and knelt next to Josh. Reese was breathing hard and his face mask began to vibrate as the green light dimmed, leaving the warning glow of one yellow and one red light. His air was running out. He didn’t care. Glenn was the unofficial head of vampires in the mountains of California. The vampire’s death would be felt across the population. They needed to save him. Splaying his gloved hand over Glenn’s chest, he looked at Josh who simply nodded. To hell with protocol. No one needed to see Glenn broken this way. Reese pulled the stake from the vampire’s heart.

  Glenn arched and the edges of the wound fluttered. The faint pulse of blood echoed in Reese’s ears.

  “We need to get him out of here,” Josh’s alien voice filtered through the speakers of his mask.

  “Hold on Glenn,” Reese shouted over the din of the fire. “You’re going to make it. We’ve got you.”

  Josh hefted Glenn’s legs and Reese gingerly scooped his hands under the man’s shoulders. Two guys arrived with water, pushing back the flames that had continued to claim the walls. Josh and Reese left the others to battle the fire and ran out the back door with Glenn’s still form. Laying him in the deep grass under the pretense of doing CPR, they watched to see if his body could repair the gaping hole in his chest.

  Nothing happened. The chasm remained. Glenn’s life hung by a thready pulse that was barely audible to Reese’s acute senses. He didn’t want to think it was too late to save the ancient vampire and he ripped off his mask and gloves and dug his fangs deep into the tender flesh of his wrist. Reese didn’t care who saw him. Bringing the life-giving liquid to Glenn’s mouth, he urged his mentor to drink, but the blood spilled over Glenn’s blackened lips and down his chin.

  “Fight, Glenn. Damn it all! You can do this.” Reese could barely speak past the emotion burning his throat. He squeezed his wrist harder, blood pouring forth. He released the breath trapped in his lungs only when the vampire’s mouth finally opened and the fluid flowed over Glenn’s swollen tongue.

  But Glenn wasn’t drinking. He was trying to speak.

  “Don’t talk. Focus on repairing your body.”

  Glenn lifted his hand, his eyes imploring Reese to hear him.

  Reese pulled his wrist away and leaned in close to the death rattle bubbling from Glenn’s lips.

  “Hope …”

  “Of course there’s hope. Just drink.”

  Glenn closed his eyes. “No … Hope … here.”

  “What the fuck is he saying?” Josh threw off his helmet, leaning in next to Reese. “Glenn, do mean the reporter Hope? My Hope?”

  “Vampire attack … fire …”

  Josh replaced his helmet, calling frantically into his mic as he ran back into the fire. “There may be another victim. Repeat. There may be another victim. Adult female. Blonde.”

  Reese forced his wrist back to Glenn’s mouth, but his blood poured untouched over the vampire’s slack lips. Emotion clogged his throat. “Glenn, you can do this. It’s not too late.”

  “No.” The word gurgled out with the blood frothing from his mouth. “Don’t. Blame. Her. Not … her … fault …”

  “Who Glenn?”

  But there would be no answer. Like a hammer to a gong, Glenn’s heart pumped for the last time and their connection went silent. The eerie stillness echoed painfully in Reese’s ears. His mentor’s clouded eyes rolled back in their sockets searching for redemption, as Glenn’s taut muscles relaxed into the waiting arms of death.

  Chapter Six

  Emotional exhaustion replaced the marrow in Reese’s bones, making his limbs unusually stiff and heavy. The fingers of his left hand hung loosely over the bottom of the steering wheel and his right was slung over the top. He drove like an old man on a Sunday drive, his foot muscles too lethargic to exert more force on the gas pedal. Reese just wanted to get back to the log cabin in the woods, lay his weary body down and shut out the world—and the pain. The night had been much too long. The devastation much too overwhelming. And its aftermath, a weight he could barely shoulder.

  He’d left Josh at Hope’s empty apartment.

  A search of the fire scene last night and the surrounding woods in the pre-dawn hours hadn’t turned up any evidence of the woman. Even her bright yellow VW was nowhere to be found within the town limits of South Kenton. Reese wished he’d understood more of what Glenn had been trying to communicate.

  With John Sampson’s body staked to the floor, his throat slashed open by a vampire, Hope and her car missing, and the fire burning up everything in its path, Reese wasn’t sure who to blame or how to interpret Glenn’s final words. He hadn’t really had much time to think about it all.

  The fire at the farmhouse had taken hours to extinguish. Reese had been on auto-pilot since the lifeless body of his mentor had been spirited away by the vamp coroner the night before. The pieces of Reese’s shattered soul lay scattered in the back field where Glenn’s life had tragically ended. There had been nothing left in him to feel the sting of worry when Alex had accepted Ronan’s offer to take her home.

  Don’t blame her. Glenn’s last words bounced like an unending echo in his brain.

  In Reese’s book, the vampire could have meant only one person. Combined with the information Hope seemed to have pulled together, it was hard to ignore the boot full of suspicion kicking him in the gut. The anger that had kept him going through the night rose fresh and raw again. If Alex was responsible for Glenn’s death, Reese would hunt her down and eliminate her himself. Fuck the tribunal. Fuck a fair hearing in front of RISEN. Fuck his heart. There was no reason to murder an ancient vampire like Glenn, who had saved so many from self-destruction. If she were the cause of all his pain, Reese would kill her with his own hands. He made himself that promise as the taillights of the ambulance carrying Glenn’s body had receded into the night.

  His car steered itself down the rutted dirt road toward home. The wipers slapped away the early morning drizzle and he was grateful for the heavy blanket of clouds obscuring the sun. He wanted the world to feel the damp and deep gloom clouding his spirit and permeating his muscles. Reese wasn’t sure anything could penetrate the heavy coat of sorrow and guilt he currently wore. He should have solved this case months ago. Glenn had died because he’d lost focus. Well, no more. He’d follow the evidence, regardless of where—or to whom—it led.

  The pines opened to a small clearing. Morning fog hung heavy over the river running placidly behind their log cabin. Normal men would have found tranquility and sustenance fishing in its icy depths, but in the year they’d lived here, he and Josh had barely spent time on its banks. That’s why it surprised Reese when his eyes immediately fixated on the figure hunched on the boulder. He stared, not sure she wasn’t a mirage.

  He shoved the car in park and shut off the engine.

  Alex had come to him. Was she here to confess or make excuses? Glenn loved her like a daughter. Reese didn’t want to believe she’d have it in her to murder the man so heartlessly, but the evidence was certainly stacking up to the contrary.

  He’d told Ronan she deserved the opportunity to defend herself. Didn’t he at least owe her that much? He tamped down his anger, got out of the car and slogged through the thick grass to the rocky shore. A thin veil of smoky aroma permeated the air. Reese wasn’t sure if it drifted through the trees from Glenn’s farm up the road, clung to his clothes or simply filled his nose as it did for days after an ugly fire. Reese wondered if he’d ever purge this one from his senses.

  The woman sitting on the boulder, her shoulders sagging, her head buried in her knees, certainly didn’t look dangerous. Coming up behind her, he squinted against the early morning light. The steady wash of rain on his ball cap did little to ease the tin
gle of sun upon his face. Though a vampire as young as Alex could withstand a few hours of muted sunlight, he couldn’t help wondering if sitting in its rays was some form of penance. Even in the rainy gloom, the dawn burned brightly.

  “Did Ronan bring you here?” he asked.

  “I walked over from the tavern.”

  “He let you leave?”

  She turned her head, the short strands of hair slashing darkly across her china doll face. Her eyes, usually sparking with life, were red and raw from tears. Regret or sadness—he wondered.

  “No, actually, I told him I had to go to the bathroom and left out the window.” She spun her body around to face him and he couldn’t help but notice how small and vulnerable she looked in the wet clothes. “The guy’s about as warm as a dead fish. He hovered over me all night, but didn’t offer one ounce of comfort when we got the news about Glenn.” She choked back a sob.

  He refused to acknowledge the tug on his heart. “Not exactly why he was there.”

  Her gaze searched his face. “What?”

  “Two more vampires are dead and a woman is missing.”

  Alex wiped the tears from her eyes and jumped down from the rock. “And?”

  “And you have a connection to all three of them.”

  “Me? What the hell are you talking about, Reese? I …” He watched the deep lines of confusion relax into a dazed expression of understanding. “Oh my God, you think I … this is insane.” She pushed past him. “Forget it. Forget I stopped by. I just wanted someone—”

  He grabbed her arm and turned her back around. “You have to see how this looks, Alex. Three people in the last twelve hours. All of them connected to you.” He counted on his fingers. “Glenn, John Sampson and now Hope.”

  “What about Hope?”

  “We can’t find her.”

  Alex wrapped an arm around her waist, her color paling. “What do you mean can’t find her?”

  “As in she is missing. Her car is missing. Vanished. No sign of her.”

  She looked to the cabin and back to him. He wasn’t sure if the moisture running down her cheeks was rain or fresh tears. “Where’s Josh?”

  “At her apartment, hoping she’ll call or come home.” He couldn’t read her. Didn’t know if the news surprised her or confirmed information she already knew.

  “And where did you find John Sampson?”

  “Staked to the floor in the center of Glenn’s barn with his throat ripped open.”

  “Oh, God …” Alex fell to her knees and puked.

  Thorns of guilt bit into his heart. Either she was one hell of an actress or the news had truly taken her by surprise. Squatting next to Alex as she wretched, he was having a hard time convincing his brain that she was a murderer. Without thought, he reached for her, but she shrugged away from his touch.

  She caught her breath and turned to him, swiping at her mouth. “Don’t try to play nice now, Reese. I get it, you think I—”

  Her small frame once again convulsed as her stomach retched, purging everything in her system. Her shuddering breath sawed in and out of her lungs. Even he could see how little energy she had.

  Reese may have been confused over Alex’s involvement in all of this, but he wasn’t a complete asshole. He scooped her into his arms. Her efforts to stop him were weak and ineffective. “Just let me get you inside. You can fight me when you have your strength back.”

  * * *

  Alex sipped at the cup of hot water Reese had set in front of her. It was the only thing she was sure would stay down at this point. He’d given her a spare toothbrush, a dry T-shirt and some time alone in his bathroom to pull herself together while he shuttered the windows. She’d refused the blood wine he’d offered, his brow furrowing when she’d pushed it away, swallowing the bile that rose in her throat. Reese stood leaning against the sideboard, his arms crossed defensively over his heart. And didn’t their timing suck?

  “I need to know, Alex.”

  She inhaled deeply. Her head pounded with the pressure behind her eyes, her stomach twisting in painful contractions. After what Alex had seen of John last night, she had no doubt things would only get worse as this day progressed. At least someone had put the vampire out of his misery. She wondered how the end would come for her.

  Before she told Reese a sanitized version of how events had unfolded last night—because damn, she needed to tell someone—she needed to know exactly what Reese thought he’d uncovered. “You need to know about what specifically?” she asked.

  He closed his eyes and shook his head. “It’s me you’re talking to, Alex. Don’t insult what we have by playing games.”

  “I didn’t kill anyone as you seem to think.”

  His eyes grew dark, the corner of his mouth curving in a malicious smirk. He cocked an eyebrow, straightening his arms and wiggling his fingers in invitation to rebuke his theory. His silent recrimination filled the air and Alex could hardly draw breath. Jesus. She’d only been grabbing at straws. He really thought she’d started the fire that had killed Glenn and John.

  “He was my father.” Alex’s chin trembled, but the words had come out strong. “I’ve been listening to him in my head since the day he saved me … and now there’s nothing.” She swallowed the sorrow threatening to overwhelm her. “Hope is my best friend. What could ever make you believe I could hurt either of them much less …” She couldn’t say the word. Refused to acknowledge that the man in front her believed she was capable of murder.

  In one long stride, Reese was in her face. “Then make me understand how every human and every vampire who’s been killed in the last eighteen months has some affiliation with you. Because from where I’m standing, Alex, it’s hard to see past those facts.”

  His words were like a hard slap that jerked her head back. “Firefighters don’t investigate deaths. And if the fire marshal suspected anything, I’d be sitting in a jail cell and not at your kitchen table.” Her gaze raked his face, watching emotions playing over his features. “Who the hell are you, Reese Colton?”

  “An investigator for the tribunal.”

  “If they think I’m guilty of killing vamps, why haven’t they taken me?”

  “They don’t know what we know. We just uncovered the information yesterday.””

  “You’re not the only one?”

  “No. Josh and Ronan too.”

  That would explain the weird interaction between Ronan and Reese in the wine cellar yesterday morning. She’d known the two had been connected somehow. “And there’s the explanation for Ronan’s kind offer of a ride last night.” She shot him a sarcastic smile. “He didn’t want me to get away.”

  Reese simply shrugged in agreement. “We’re here at Glenn’s request to the tribunal.”

  “Glenn never said anything.” It was all too much to process. Alex got up, pacing the kitchen, trying to make her mind work through the haze of confusion and pain. “Glenn believed this evidence also implicated me?”

  “We never had a chance to tell him.” Reese dropped into the kitchen chair, as if the information they’d found were a burden he couldn’t carry. “Hope discovered your connection to the fires over the last eighteen months and shared it with Josh yesterday. We think that’s why she’s missing.”

  The last Alex had seen of her friend, Hope had been running from the barn. She had tracked John for nearly two hours. By the time she’d followed his trail back to Glenn’s, the barn had been burning wildly and she hadn’t seen anyone else. Alex believed Hope had gone for help. “I didn’t hurt her.” Alex’s stomach dropped and it was all she could do to keep her legs under her. Details were running together in a sickening haze, confusing the sequence of events, but she was sure she hadn’t seen the yellow VW at Glenn’s when she’d returned to the barn. “Reese, I didn’t hurt any of them.”

  “Let’s start with the fire last night. Why were you at Glenn’s?”

  That was a loaded question. “Glenn didn’t sho
w up for his shift at the tavern. Since he was supposed to bring the week’s supply of pig blood for the winery, someone needed to get it.” The lie she’d concocted last night as she’d run from the tavern came out strong and even. “John Sampson was there feeding the animals. He’s done it before.” Alex kept her voice steady through the deceit. Reese didn’t need to know why either of them had been at Glenn’s. Her reason had nothing to do with hiding a murder. Now she wondered if it had something to do with John’s death.

  “What time was that?”

  “I don’t know, seven or eight? Does it matter?”

  “Yeah, it fucking matters.” Reese’s hand came down hard on the metal table. “Glenn called us in because vamps were being burned in fires throughout South Kenton. Since we’ve arrived, not only have the numbers of fires escalated, but now they include humans who have been sucked dry. And within the last two days the only human who knew about our covert investigation, Paul Morgan, has been murdered along with the vampire who got the ball rolling. It’s not just anyone who drives a stake in a man’s heart and burns them to death. We’ve got a rogue vampire on a rampage. So yeah, Alex, I think any information you have about the fires fucking matters.”

  “Reese, I just don’t know. It was dark by the time we finished with the animals. John left and I went to get the pig blood out of the cooler where Glenn stores it.”

  “Did you see anyone else at that time?’ His voice, smooth and thick as blood, dripped with bitterness.

  She shook her head. There’s no way she could explain Hope’s involvement in the night’s activities. Besides, the woman had been alive when she’d left her. Tears welled in her eyes as the sadness pressed hot in her throat. She dropped in the chair across from him.

  “You didn’t see anyone around who could’ve started the fire?” Reese asked again.

  She’d been too intent on stopping John to know if anyone but Hope had been at the barn. “Not until I got back, after dropping off the wine.”

  “What sent you back?”

  “I hadn’t heard from Glenn.” It frightened Alex how easily the lies tripped off her tongue and rolled into a huge tangle of deceit. The final details of the fake scenario had been pieced together as she’d sat by the river in the early hours of dawn, waiting for Reese. There was no reason for anyone to know she’d run after John in hopes of saving him. No one would believe her anyway. Not when everyone who mattered to her was dying. They hadn’t died at her hands, but obviously knowing Alexandra Flanagan was a pastime you didn’t survive.