Recombinant

by Shannon Mayer

  “Where are you staying?” I asked.

  “Rach. It’s too dangerous. I shouldn’t even be here now.”

  I’d seen his bag. His non-answer confirmed what I suspected. “You’re staying here tonight.”

  He shook his head. “I have that meeting.”

  “Then go and come back.” I tasted the sauce, then handed the spoon to him.

  He licked it and whistled. “When did you learn to cook?”

  “When I got back to the States. A few months ago I got tired of takeout.”

  “Why’d you come back?”

  That was a complicated question. One we didn’t have time to delve into, so I kept it short. “No one learned anything over there. The sins of the fathers kept repeating themselves—on all sides. It became too depressing, so…I came back.”

  I fixed two plates and set one in front of him.

  We sat at the island counter and made small talk while he downed his first glass of wine. I poured him another and decided it was time to put on some pressure.

  “You know who’s committing these murders.”

  He took a bite of his garlic bread, then sat back in his chair. “This is my story, Rachel. Stay out.”

  I leaned forward. “I have sources that can help. We can work together.”

  “Why does this intrigue you?” he asked.

  “I can guess why it intrigues you,” I said. “You’re all about cover-ups and conspiracies, and Sean’s involved, so this must have something to do with the U.S. government.”

  “He’s involved now, huh? I suspected.” He set his fork on his plate. “I’ve suspected for some time, but it’s good to have confirmation.”

  “Why? What’s he doing now?”

  “National security.”

  “Terrorists?” I asked.

  His mouth twisted. “In a way.” He studied my face, then sighed. “Bioterrorism.”

  “Shit.” I pushed my plate way, suddenly losing my appetite. “Creating it or stopping it?”

  “You know the fact you had to ask is damning in and of itself.”

  I didn’t deny it.

  He picked up his wine. “I’m close to breaking this. I know it. The guy I’m meeting tonight has answers. He could be my Deep Throat.”

  “And this started in the Middle East?”

  He just stared at me and took a sip of wine.

  “Sean thinks you’ve lost it.”

  He forced a smile. “It’s easier to dismiss me that way.” He stood. “I need to head into the city. Can I leave my bag here?”

  My head was still reeling. Bioterrorism scared the hell out of me. A few weeks before Sean had cheated on me Derrick had told me that he’d heard whispers of it. Experiments in an Iraqi prisoner camp. But when I’d asked him about it a week later, he’d given me a tight smile and told me it had turned out to be nothing. Something in his eyes had told me he was lying. Now I was certain of it. “Derrick, let me help.”

  He moved around the table and placed his hands on my shoulders. “You’ll help me more by staying here and watching my bag. All of my research is on my laptop. You can’t let Sean get it.”

  I nodded. “I won’t. I promise.”

  He headed for the door.

  Did he really think I’d give up that easily? “Derrick.”

  He tuned to look at me.

  “Please be careful.”

  He grinned. “I’m always careful. See you in a few hours.”

  I locked the door behind him, placing my back to the wood. I could wait for Derrick to come back and tell me what this was all about, or I could look for answers myself.

  Like that was even a question.

  I hurried into my room, grabbed his bag off the floor, and rushed back to the kitchen. After putting the dinner plates in the sink, I set the bag on a bar stool and began riffling through his belongings. When I pulled out his laptop, I found several folded maps in the bag. I spread them across the island’s surface. They were terrain maps of the Middle East, Iraq in particular, and several places were circled. One I recognized as a U.S. military base rumored to conduct medical experimentation even earlier than the prisoner camp Derrick had mentioned. Of course, few people had believed it at the time, but Derrick had been certain there was a kernel of truth to the tall tales.

  I opened his laptop and felt a small amount of guilt as I tried to figure out what his password could be. But I was doing this for his own good. He needed my help, whether he would admit it or not.

  The password only took three tries. The winner turned out to be the name of his favorite childhood cat, something I had learned while we hung out with the troops in the heat of the desert.

  His iPhone messages popped up first, and I offered a silent prayer of thanks that his texts were in his cloud. The most recent was from “CV,” and it had an address on the Lower East Side, the words Asclepius Project, and the time 9:00. I tapped my chin, battling with my conscience, but who was I kidding? Wild horses couldn’t keep me away. Too bad I’d spent most of my transportation money on a taxi the day before. But the subway would take too long. I’d have to cab it again.

  Just after I restored the maps and laptop to the bag, making some attempt to put them back the way I’d found them, a knock came on the door.

  I bolted upright. I rarely had visitors, and I knew this wasn’t Derrick. I hurried to the door and peered into the peephole. Two men in dark suits. Shit.

  The taller man pounded again, glaring at the door as if he could see me. “Open up! FBI!”

  FBI? I hadn’t been doing anything to warrant their attention, which meant they’d followed Derrick here. What if they’d also followed him to his source? I needed to act now. Grabbing his bag, I sprinted to my closet as I called the last number I had for him. After five rings it went to voice mail. “I need to talk to you ASAP. Call me.”

  The pounding continued, becoming more insistent as I threw dirty clothes out of the way and found the trap door I’d made after my apartment was broken into a couple of months before. The space wasn’t big, and I prayed the bag would fit inside. When it did, I started praying they wouldn’t notice the cracks in the wood slats. I couldn’t let the Feds find Derrick’s research. I couldn’t. After shoving the laundry back into the closet, I ran into the bathroom and flushed the toilet before heading into the living area. Just as I reached the middle of the room, the door burst open—as in swinging, not crashing—which meant they’d picked the lock.

  Not something the FBI was likely to do.

  The two men walked in, their eyes wide with shock when they saw me. In a matter of seconds, they trained their handguns on me.

  I had a feeling things were about to get a lot more complicated.

  CHAPTER 5

  LEA

  With the holy water bubbling in the front seat, we both knew we were close. “Calvin, find a place already. You take any longer and the sun is going to come up before we’re parked.”

  I was itching to get out and move. The sun had set and I wanted nothing more than to slam my silver stakes into a vampire’s heart. Maybe that would help me erase the memories that had haunted me as we drove.

  “You think it’s easy to park in the heart of New York City? What am I, an overpaid chauffeur?” he grumbled at me.

  I drummed my fingers on the back of his seat. Patience was something I had developed over the last several hundred years, but at moments like this one, I felt it slipping away.

  “Calvin, forget about it. I’ll find you later.” With that, I pulled on my elbow-length leather gloves and jumped out of the car the next time he slowed at an intersection.

  “Damn it, Lea! Get back here!”

  Ignoring him, I ghosted through traffic, dodging cars with ease. I still wore my shrouded cowl, black jeans, and boots, plus the molded leather chest armor that had softened to fit around me over the years. The long gloves would allow me to handle the silver weapons that were the only effective tools against a vamp.

  Silver stakes and my silver
netting was all I had with me, but I likely wouldn’t need more than that. A single vamp out in the open was generally an easy catch, and there was no indication this serial killer vamp wasn’t working alone. But what the hell was the connection to Rikers Island then? The only thing that made sense was that the thief had broken out, and then been turned. And maybe if it were any other jail than Rikers Island I could have been able to convince myself of that.

  That only left one option. Someone pulled the thief out, turned him, and then set him loose somewhere I would find him.

  But again, why? And who?

  I stalked deep into the park, honing in on the vampire’s scent within a few hundred feet. Following the vampire’s winding path, I frowned. There was no pattern to the movement, which was strange. Like whoever it was wandered instead of hunted.

  “What the hell are you up to, bloodsucker?” I searched through a clump of half-dead bushes for footprints. They were there in the rain-softened ground. A good-sized foot. Unless there was an Amazonian female vamp I didn’t know about, I was looking for a male vampire.

  Central Park was the perfect hunting ground for a vampire. Lots of cover, and contrary to popular belief, the more people who were around, the easier it was to cut one from the herd. But tonight, there were only a few people out. A slight drizzle might have been keeping the humans away. But I doubted it.

  A vampire on the prowl would notch up the humans’ natural survival instincts. They might not realize they were avoiding the park, but they would still follow their hindbrain’s instructions to hunker down somewhere safe until the storm had passed.

  And those who didn’t?

  A man strode in front of me, head down and shoulders hunched. “Dinner,” I whispered at him from my hiding place in the shadows.

  He stopped and looked around. “Hello?”

  Damn, his hearing was good. I didn’t move, just waited for him to continue on his way.

  Except he didn’t. He took a step toward me, shocking the shit out of me. There was the slight bulge of a weapon under his jacket. So he thought he was safe? Humans and their guns…they thought a bullet would solve every problem to come their way. I wasn’t sure if I agreed with them or not.

  Slowly he backed away from me, his eyes tight with concern and a healthy dose of fear. I could almost see his skin prickling with gooseflesh.

  “Get a hold of yourself, Derrick. You’re acting like a little girl,” he whispered.

  I couldn’t resist playing with him. Hell, he was making it too damn easy. I whispered his name, throwing my voice so it bounced around him, summoning him from several directions at once.

  He stumbled back, his eyes wide. “Shit.” His hand shook on the butt of his gun, but he didn’t grab it. Guts. This one had guts. I almost felt bad about teasing him.

  Almost.

  Grinning to myself, I was about to give him something else to think about when I caught the scent of the other vampire again. The wind came toward me, and brought the flavor as if I’d dipped my mouth into an ice cream sundae. Though I didn’t feed from other vamps as a general rule, I’d drank a few down when I had to. It was fucking delicious.

  This vampire was no young pup. He approached Derrick from behind, without making the slightest crunch or creak.

  Long flowing trench coat, dark clothes, no hat to protect his head from the rain. His auburn hair was slicked back into a ponytail. Blue-green eyes peered out from the deep crevices of his eye sockets. I did a mental search through my vampire database. I didn’t know who this was, and that made me nervous. The old vampires were notoriously egotistical. They liked me knowing who they were.

  It looked like one of them had finally gotten smart and kept his info from me.

  But not for long.

  I tensed and pulled the thin netting of silver filament loose from the pouch on my belt. Wrapping a vamp in the filament would keep him incapacitated, and I would be able to ask all the questions I wanted.

  Of course, he’d probably be screaming because the filament would burn the shit out of his skin, but that wasn’t really a concern of mine. That’s what gags were for.

  “I believe you are looking for me,” the vamp said, his voice cultured and smooth.

  Derrick spun around, pulling his gun as he did. “I know what you are. Don’t come any closer.”

  Damn, he was quick for a human. But how the hell did he know what the vamp was? We had some pretty strict rules when it came to being outed.

  As in, don’t tell the humans unless they were a) dinner or b) going to be turned into a vampire.

  The vampire lifted his hands. “I believe we can find a mutually beneficial understanding, Derrick. I am not going to hurt you. Please, put the gun away. This sort of thing is below two gentlemen, don’t you think?”

  I wanted to snort. There was no way the vamp was going to talk. Which meant Derrick was in for a wicked surprise.

  “I think I’ll keep it out, if it’s all the same to you.”

  Hmm. I was liking this Derrick more and more. He wasn’t falling under the vampire’s sway. I itched to jump out and ask the vampire what the hell he was talking about, but there was no need. The idiot spilled the beans right there.

  There was a soft click, the depression of a button, if I was hearing right. Derrick lifted a voice recorder with his free hand. “For posterity. Tell me your name, age, and what you do for a living.”

  The vampire smiled, his fangs glittering for a split second. “My name is Caine, I am three hundred years old, give or take a few years. I eat people for a living.”

  Derrick backed up a couple of steps. “What do you think this is? Interview with a fucking vampire? I’ve done everything you asked. Now it’s time for you to give me information. No more games.”

  I had to bite my tongue. Oh man, if he only knew the truth.

  Caine held his hands up again as he slowly shifted to the side, trying to get closer to Derrick again. Definitely here to take care of the nosy reporter, then. “Yes, this is an interview with a vampire, though why you should be surprised is beyond me. I told you when we spoke that you would have a hard time believing me. Information is power. It is the most reliable currency in the world now.”

  Derrick stepped sideways, giving me a good look at his face. He frowned, but his gun hand was still steady. Probably the only thing that was keeping his neck from getting chewed on. The old vamps were smart enough to know a bullet might not kill them, but it would slow them down in a big way if it hit them in the head or heart.

  “Derrick, vampires are very, very real. We’re just well hidden, and at the moment, rather endangered.” Caine tucked his hands into his pockets and shrugged, looking like nothing more than a good old boy. “Here is the truth. We are being killed off at a rate we won’t long survive, and because of this, we went to your human government for protection. They are helping us repopulate at a pre-determined rate in exchange for our help.”

  Derrick’s gun slowly lowered to his side. His thumb flicked the safety on. Not smart, my friend, not smart.

  “What kind of help?”

  “Bioengineering.”

  Mother in heaven, he had to be shitting Derrick. Had to be. Because if that were true...

  But I didn’t get a chance to see what else he would have said. The wind shifted and Caine’s eyes swung toward my hiding place. The vampire leapt on Derrick, and rose with the human’s back pinned against his chest, using him as a shield.

  “Cazador, I smell you. Come out now, and let us have a chat.”

  I moved slowly, keeping my speed in check. “Caine, I don’t believe we’ve met. I have to ask, how do you know what I smell like?” I stepped out of the shadows, my hand holding the silver filament at my side.

  “Honey and blood, those are your scents. We all know. We have been warned.” His eyes flicked over me. “Not that many have escaped you, but enough that we know what to look for.”

  Derrick struggled in his arms, but Caine had an arm across his throat, effectiv
ely controlling his breathing. A little more pressure and Derrick went still. “You should let the human go,” I said. “He isn’t saving you from me.”

  “Really?” Caine’s eyebrows rose. “You would let him live after what I told him?”

  “Information is the currency we deal in, yes?” I parroted his words back to him. “He has information, and I want it. Just as I want what you know.” I flicked the silver netting out, letting it catch the light. Watched Caine’s eyes tighten as they followed the movement.

  “Torture?”

  “Of course.” I laughed softly as I stepped toward him and he stepped away. “This dance is going to end the same way regardless of how we start it, Caine.”

  “Then I think perhaps—” He reached down and sliced Derrick’s leg open across the thigh with his razor-sharp fingernails, then threw him at me, as if that would keep me off him. Caine was treating me like I was a young vamp who would be distracted by the blood.

  What a nincompoop.

  I dodged the flying body, letting Derrick fall, and sprinted after Caine. He was slow—he shouldn’t have been. This was almost too easy. I tackled him to the ground. His fangs caught me in my upper arm and he bit to the bone.

  “Son of a bitch!” I dug my fingers into the side of his mouth and pried him off as if he were a feral dog.

  A gunshot went off and a tuft of dirt exploded beside us. I ignored it, but Caine shifted me toward Derrick, angling my body so my back was to him. Which could only mean one thing.

  Silver bullets.

  I twisted, yanking Caine around as the gun went off a second time. Caine’s body jerked, and his grip on me slipped. “Good shot, man.” I grabbed the edge of Caine’s shirt and ripped it off. The bullet was buried an inch below his heart. Good shot, indeed—any higher and Caine wouldn’t be answering any questions. I flipped out the filament and wrapped it around the other vampire in a matter of seconds. The sizzle of flesh under the silver was immediate. Caine shook under the netting, his eyes glazing over as he passed out.