Prey till the End (The Endangered Series Book 3)

by S. L. Eaves

  “When you tried Rex, that was before our flight right? Hours ago?”

  Vega removes his phone. “I'll try him again.”

  I ring the buzzer for the third time. If they weren't expecting guests it's entirely possible that Jiro isn't manning the control room. Jiro is brilliant and spends much of his time in front of computer screens, but it's a total waste of talent to have him play security guard. I picture him spending his nights hacking into government databases learning the locations of surface missiles and deciphering messages on the darknet. Though in reality I think he spends a lot of time playing video games with Xan.

  “No answer. Let's just hop the fence.”

  I'm starting to worry.

  “Yeah I guess we don't have much choice. Just be careful. Jiro and Xan have the perimeter rigged with weapons.”

  Minutes later, we're standing at the doors to the mansion. And not a single alarm has gone off. During my years living at the mansion that would've been improbable if not impossible. We should have triggered something by now.

  “The power's out,” Vega observes as I press a button for a doorbell I'm pretty sure doesn't work. I then resort to knocking. The dull thumping echoes on the other side of the heavy steel and wood doors.

  “You sure?”

  There's no lights on, but I don't recall ever being able to see lights from the outside.

  “Seems that way, let's go in.” Vega's tone knots my stomach.

  He presses his hands against the massive double doors and they ease open. Either Vega isn't as weak as he's implying or they were unlocked.

  “Hello? Xan? Jiro? Crina? Anyone?”

  Vega shakes his head. “I'm not picking up anything. I don't sense any vampires in here.”

  “Really hoping they're all on vacation,” I say, trying the nearest light switches. “They turned off the power to conserve energy. Save money on electric, go green...” My attempt to cut the tension falls flat when I spot a broken chair at the end of the foyer.

  As I cautiously cross the massive two-story entryway the pain in my stomach grows.

  Vega disappears down the opposite hallway.

  “The paintings have been knocked off the wall,” he announces.

  “I'm heading to the control room,” I call out, trying to contain the panic in my voice.

  The octagon shaped room that once rivaled anything you'd see in a futuristic military movie sits in shambles. I step cautiously into the room, my feet crunching on broken glass and frayed wires. The room is barely recognizable.

  “It looks as though a bomb went off in here,” Vega comments as he looks over my shoulder into the post-apocalyptic remnants of the room.

  He turns the flashlight on from his phone and scans the shattered surfaces. When the glow illuminates a pile of dust he stops panning.

  “There's an arrow in the back of the chair. Someone or something got him.”

  Am I going to find that they've all been dusted?

  “Striden?” I spin to face Vega. “I swear if this was Striden, if you could have done something to prevent this...” I push past him and he grabs my arm.

  “Try to remain calm. Let's not jump to conclusions quite yet.”

  “Let go, Vega, I need to check their rooms. If it was Striden, he would have done it during the day when they were sleeping.”

  He relents, releasing my arm. I dash up and down the corridors. Normally you need a keycard, but with the power out I move freely through the various wings.

  “Blood!” I yell to no one in particular when I find streaks of it along the wall outside the library. It has the sour sting of vampire blood. Blood from the undead has a distinct, bitter scent.

  I kick open doors and for the most part nothing is disturbed.

  Blood, but no dust. Dried blood.

  “Hey, Lori, you should see this.”

  Vega sounds as if he hasn't left the control room. I oblige and find him standing over

  Jiro's desk holding up a piece of paper. A set of numbers are scrawled across it: 45°29'25.7” 25°25'43.6”

  “Code?”

  Vega shakes his head. “Location. Pureblood calling card. These are coordinates. I'll have to check them, but I'm fairly sure it's for their mausoleum in the Romanian mountainside.”

  “What does this mean? The Purebloods did this?”

  He nods. “Good news is they might just be holding them. This card indicates that they want us to go there.”

  “Like a ransom? They want something in exchange?”

  “It might be a reaction to everything that’s happening in the states.”

  “They think one of them is responsible for the attacks overseas? I thought they were the only ones your kind trusted? Some of them are from your former clan.”

  “I did not expect this at all. It's drastic and out of character.”

  “Well can't you contact them to straighten this out?”

  “I've been trying to. We communicate through telepathy. They've shut me out... I may have overstated my influence.”

  “Great, just great. ‘They'll be fine Lori, Trust me Lori. Their focus is on the American traitors.’” I can feel my eyes burning as I hiss out the words, “You're supposed to be a powerful ally, but no, I'm in league with the exiled Pureblood. That’s it right, didn’t they exile you awhile back?”

  When he doesn’t respond, I point at the paper.

  “This is exactly the scenario I am trying to avoid. I don't want them as an enemy. And I doubt the others do either. I can't imagine they've done anything to incite this. When did you last speak with any of them?”

  Vega pulls out his phone and scrolls through it.

  “Rex. Five days ago.”

  “And he didn't indicate anything? Nothing about them being on alert? Warnings from your kind?”

  Vega shakes his head, “We spoke about blood. They've been sending me shipments of the synthetic blood they produce. That was all.”

  “The cameras.” I suddenly remember, searching desperately for a screen that isn't broken. “If we can get the power back on there should be footage up to them cutting it.”

  “Cameras can't capture our image if we don't want them to. There's not going to be anything to find. Look I'm sorry it's come to this, really, I had no idea they'd go after them. But they didn't dust them all. I’m confident we can work something out.”

  I head into the weapons room.

  “We won't do anything. I will go. Alone.”

  “And how exactly do you plan to do that? Cross borders with no passport and armed to the teeth?” He calls after me, “Unless you've learned how to make yourself invisible, you need a safe method of transport.”

  Suddenly Vega's phone vibrates. I step out from the weapon's room holding a duffle bag, eyes wide waiting impatiently for him to answer.

  “Well?”

  “It's Quinn.”

  He answers anxiously, “Quinn?”

  Quinn and Dade are sitting in the back of a plane flying over the Andes Mountains. They're wearing jumpsuits and Dade is using a rag to polish his snowboard. Quinn has to speak loudly over the plane's engines.

  “Hey, Vega, what's with all the calls and texts?”

  “Are you all right? Where are you? Are you with the others?”

  “What? Yeah I'm just peachy. I'm snowboarding with Dade. We're – where are we?” she says, turning to Dade.

  “Somewhere over Chile. Or Argentina. I think.”

  “South America.”

  “I'm at the mansion and something's happened. The others are missing. It looks like an ambush.”

  “What? For real? Who? How? That place is a fortress—”

  I grab the phone from Vega.

  “Quinn, it's Lori. It's bad here, things look really grim. There's dust and blood. Vega thinks it was Purebloods.”

  “Lori? Where the fuck are you? Wait, slow down - we're coming home. Damn, why would they attack us? What the hell happened?”

  “No clue, I - I've been out of the game
awhile. Real quick, I need to know – do you still trust Vega?” Looking him in the eyes as I ask.

  “Yeah, Lor, I do.” Her voice is sincere. “Why? What did you see?”

  “Nothing. I just don't know who I can trust right now.”

  “You're going after them aren't you?” she asks, already knowing the answer. I look at the bag I'm holding. She takes my silence as confirmation. “Lor, try not to do anything stupid, okay?”

  “You two watch your backs out there. Vega thinks they could be coming for all of us.”

  I hand the phone back to Vega and return to the weapons room. He reiterates my warning, advises them to be cautious and emphasizes the urgency to return home before hanging up. Honestly, the way things are right now, they are safer overseas.

  ***

  Quinn secures the phone inside her jacket, “Well as far as phone calls go, that has got to be one of the strangest I've received.”

  Dade hands her the board he'd been prepping. “What happened?”

  “Wish I knew. Vega is with Lori at the mansion. They found the place deserted and trashed. For some reason they think it's Purebloods.”

  “Shit, really? Why would they come after us?” Dade pick up his board, adjusts the straps.

  “No clue. Apparently they ransacked the place. Left behind blood and dust, too...Whatever happened, they're not okay.” Quinn shakes her head, readies her gear.

  “Damn. How quickly can we get home?” Dade fidgets nervously with a pair of snow goggles.

  “If we can arrange a charter tonight we can be back in England by nightfall tomorrow.”

  The intercom beeps and the pilot says something in Spanish. Quinn nods, turns to Dade, “Sunset, we're clear in five.”

  Dade clicks his boots into his board.

  “We still doing this then?”

  “Well this little plane can't take us to England,” she smirks. “And this is the fastest way to the ground.”

  ***

  Vega scowls as he watches me gather supplies and stuff them haphazardly into the bulging duffle bag.

  “You're not going to wait for them are you?”

  “You know I can't. Besides, if this is a trap why give them the chance to capture more of us?”

  “If you go in guns blazing you're not going to accomplish much. Bullets will just piss them off and it will make it more difficult to work out any kind of deal.”

  “Maybe I don't want to make peace, Vega, maybe I want to make a statement. There's no way in hell I'm going in unarmed. If they're as untouchable as everyone says, they won't mind. This gear is primarily defensive.”

  “Just don't bring a stake or a cross and you should at least be able to get in the door,” he mutters disapprovingly. I slipped a thin wooden stake inside my boot, but he doesn't need to know that.

  Holding up the paper with the coordinates, “I'm going here tonight. If you want to help then get your plane ready. I have one more thing I need to get.”

  It takes me some time to remember which room belonged to Marcus. When I open the door to his quarters, I'm met with the musty, stale scent of a room that has been left abandoned and untouched for years. A thick layer of dust coats everything.

  Catch’s sword rests on the living room wall, mounted above a samurai sword and a pair of daggers. Catch was better with the blade than he would admit, but I rarely saw him use it in battle. It was a gift from Adrian, if memory serves, and he wore it sheathed across his back for luck.

  He was wearing it the night he died. That night the sword made the thirty-plus story plunge I should’ve made. I recall watching it as I shook Catch’s remains from my eyes. Time froze as that sword fell. I often wonder how different things would be if I had just let go of that roof ledge or never grabbed it in the first place, just went clean over and didn’t give him the opportunity to save me, taking an arrow in the back in the process. The pain in his eyes will never leave me.

  In fact all its owners shared similar fates. So yeah, it’s safe to say he was wrong about the sword bringing him luck. But it doesn’t belong on Marcus’ wall; a traitor’s wall, a place reserved for his abandoned collectables. I hope every time he looked at that sword he felt the burden of his betrayal staring back.

  When I return to the control room, Vega intercepts me. “Before we go there’s something I want you to see.”

  He proceeds to lead me into one of Xan’s R&D rooms. Xan is an inventor at heart; always modifying and designing weapons and other devices for the field. Combat wasn't his forte, but his gadgets always proved advantageous. He'd bailed me out of more jams than I can count.

  Looking around the room at the piles of scrap material, I can’t tell if it was trashed or just how he left it. Vega points to a black suit hanging from a hook along the far wall.

  “Look familiar?”

  I can’t really make it out in the obscure darkness. My night vision is better than human’s but a black suit in a dark room doesn’t give me much to work with.

  I shrug. “Should it?”

  Vega takes it down and carries it over, holding it out like a tailor presenting his latest work.

  “This is the daylight suit Trion was developing. Xan finished what they started. I remember him telling me about it a little while back. He’s tested it, it works. He's struggled to replicate the materials, but I recognize this one, it's the prototype.”

  He points at the eye pieces in the head gear. “Several layers of UV-proof lenses with night and thermal settings.”

  I recall the time we hunted a demon at a college campus during the day. Equipped with layers of thick clothing, ski masks, hoods and big clunky thermal scopes. Technology has improved dramatically since then.

  “That’s impressive, but I’m not clear on what you’re suggesting. I don’t see a daylight rescue scenario really working.”

  He shakes his head. “They have UV lights in their mausoleum.” He clears his throat. “Defense.”

  “In case their creations turned on them?”

  “If you insist on going in alone, it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared.”

  I grunt as I take the suit from him.

  “The more I learn about Purebloods, the less I like them.”

  Chapter 8

  Vega arranged a helicopter since there was nowhere feasible for his plane to maneuver around the land on the mountain range. The Carpathian mountain range seems like it'd be gorgeous site to behold in the daylight. Under the glow of the moonlight however, the ridged formations look like razors slicing into the indigo sky.

  Vega says something indiscernible to the pilot then gestures to the cargo door. I slide it open and make the twenty foot jump to the rocky terrain. Vega tosses down the duffle bag before joining me on the ground. The chopper departs, circling the area before disappearing behind a mountain peak. Vega insisted on accompanying me. I don't know if his presence protects or endangers me at this point. I'm leaning towards the latter, but I realize looking at the blinking dot on the screen in my hand that he may prove useful.

  “So where's the front door? There a boulder I have to roll over to reveal a hidden entrance?” I'm half joking as I look around for some indication of an entrance.

  He points at a formation about thirty feet north.

  “Climb up to that cave and you'll see an opening to a tunnel. It’s a labyrinth of chambers inside. How far you get from there is entirely up to them.”

  “Great...what are the odds they just kill me on sight?”

  “Honestly?” He raises his hands from the cloak. “I wish I could say for sure what they’re after. Remember the chopper isn't guarded against the daylight so if you get them out, you need to allow three hours to get back to the mansion. That gives you a little over an hour inside.”

  “Time crunch, got it. Not planning on a long visit.”

  “You sure you don't want my help?”

  “I don't trust your brand of help right now. You can't play both sides Vega and until I know which you're on, I'm keeping you at arm’s
length.”

  I zip up the hood of the daylight suit. The night vision eye pieces are far superior to anything I've used before.

  “Just make sure you come back from this.” His eyes glow vividly at me through the lenses. A chill runs up my spine as I begin the short climb to my destination.

  It’s pitch black inside the cave and appropriately eerie as I follow a narrow dirt path down a steep incline. Eventually I reach an iron gate that serves as a door of sorts. There’s not an obvious handle or lock. I grip the bars and pull. Nothing. Suddenly the dirt shifts below my feet and the bars slide up, retracting into the cavern ceiling.

  So they know I'm here.

  I press forward. The appearance of a soft green light catches my attention. I move towards it and find a door below it. Made of solid stone, it groans as it slides open. Dirt rains down around it. I’m starting to feel like I’m in an Indian Jones movie. When I pass it I hear the groaning again. It's clear I'm not getting out unless they let me out.

  This passage is completely unlike the others. The walls are constructed of a smooth porcelain surface, a marble or ivory material; something expensive and shiny. There's no cameras, but they're watching me, I'm sure of it. As I follow the dim green lights, every so often I spot a blur in my peripheral vision, the wall shimmers for a second and when I turn the wall goes back into focus.

  Some doors remain sealed and others open as they guide me through an elaborate maze of marble. When I reach a pair of double doors I pause and look around, waiting for them to let me in. They don't. So I give the door handles a yank and feel foolish as they slide open with ease. I step inside a large room.

  With the aid of the night vision goggles, I can tell I'm standing on some sort of platform that juts out over a warehouse-sized enclosure. Every movement echoes and I’m not the only one moving. Below me I sense others are present. With the night vision to aid me I’m able to discern rows of cases or boxes. They’re not all empty. I cross the platform about to descend when I spot a panel of switches to the right of the doors.