by S. L. Eaves
Shit.
“Is Vega with him?” I lean into the phone.
“No. I...uh...no, I don’t think so,” Xan stammers.
“Are you on with Crina?” Rex can be heard in the background. “Tell her to get out here ASAP. And Lori. We could really use Lori’s help with the human problem. This is an all hands on deck situation.”
Human problem?
“Alright, alright, we hear you,” Crina gives an exasperated sigh. I can tell she doesn’t want to leave the city.
“We have a bit of a dilemma here. Any chance you can set up a meeting with Malik? He’s a reasonable guy, we should try to work out a solution.” I attempt to buy us time.
“Lori, they are offering humans as currency…as prizes. Dade won a human last night.”
Oh. Fuck.
I look to Crina, she’s their leader, it’s her call to make. There’s a flash of something that one might mistake for compassion in her eyes.
“Fine, yeah we’ll be there tonight,” she caves.
“Good. I’ll text you the address.”
He clicks off before she can change her mind.
“That was the right call.” I offer encouragingly. “If you want I can stay here and keep an eye on the hook we just baited. Someone should…”
She shakes her head adamantly.
“Hell no. You’re not to leave my sight. Striden is way more likely to come after you than a couple of failed lab rats.”
“I do want to speak with Malik. You realize this means he's likely responsible for turning the Purebloods against us. They pressed me for who was leading the rebellion. I didn't know at the time, all I knew was who it wasn't....And where the hell is Vega through all this?”
Crina downs blood and stares into the empty mug.
“Given recent revelations, I won't be surprised if he's orchestrating this. I can't shake the feeling we're sitting in the middle of a power struggle.”
“You may be on to something with that theory.”
“We’ll make it a short trip, get a handle on the situation in Vegas, meet with Malik, put a plan in motion, then head back here. Plus we can pick up silver bullets, some more supplies, and return better prepared to face Striden.”
***
Crina slows her bike as we pull up behind a small office complex on the outskirts of Henderson.
“Is this the spot?” I ask, coasting my bike to a stop.
She checks her phone and nods. “Certainly looks the part. Don’t see a lot of other options out here.”
We park and try the first door, finding it locked. Crina calls Xan. Seconds later Xan ushers us inside. He leads us to a large conference room where Rex and Quinn are sitting around, fidgety and tense.
When they’re done recapping the events from the night before, there’s a long silence.
“How many?” Xan took a few photos at the bunker, both inside and out. Crina studies them, pauses on a photo of vampires huddled around the cage.
“We counted nearly fifty during Dade’s fight. There’s a bunch of rooms there, but we figure most aren’t in them at night so only the ones not accounted for were the ones out hunting. This could be a fair amount given the ever expanding radius of attacks,” Xan gestures at the screen that’s been playing the news on mute in the corner.
“And they’re being asked to turn others too?” she continues.
Rex looks up from his laptop. “Yeah, but they're also encouraged to bring back humans alive. If they were just turning humans and letting them loose on the streets the situation would be significantly worse.”
“The reports of all the humans turning up dead, I'd bet good money they're failed attempts by newbies to turn them. It's no easy feat,” Xan adds.
“And this system has been put into place by Malik? He’s running the show?”
Rex shifts in his seat, “Seems that way. He gave a couple vamps orders, they didn’t blink.”
At one point when Rex and Malik were residing under Vega’s roof - even Quinn for a while - they’d been friends. Well maybe not friends, but allies for sure. The few interactions I’d witnessed, they clearly trusted one another. This news must be hitting them hard. I can't help but wonder what triggered this movement.
“We invited him here to talk. He offered to stop over tonight, said it would be safer than us going back to the bunker. While it seems unlikely he’s working undercover, we want to hear him out. He’s been around for centuries; loyal to Adrian, to Vega. His allegiance to the Purebloods is well known,” Quinn, who has been uncharacteristically quiet, chimes in, adding, “Honestly, I’d expect this change of heart from someone like me, not a foot soldier like him.”
“So he’s due here anytime now? Good. He better have a damn good explanation. If he comes with others we should be prepared for an attack just in case...” Crina looks around, “Where’s Dade?”
“About that...” Xan runs a hand through his disheveled hair. “He’s with the human I mentioned.”
Xan leads us to a door at the end of a hall off the conference room. He knocks as he opens the door. Dade looks up from the tablet he’s watching a movie on. He pauses it and stands as we enter.
A teenage girl sits on an air mattress in the corner, tied and gagged and looking about as freaked out as one would in this situation.
“Glad you two made it. Are things okay in Cali?” Dade gives us big bear hugs like it’s been forever. I can tell he’s relieved to be done babysitting.
“Hell of a trophy you won last night,” Crina evades his question, nods in the direction of the girl.
“It took some convincing to leave with her. We dunno what... let’s talk outside…” Dade whispers, gesturing for the hall.
Once the door closes, Xan picks up where Dade left off. “She’s seen us, she’s been to the bunker, she knows where we’re residing…at least relatively speaking. Enough to provide vivid descriptions to the police. We just couldn’t leave her there. It would look suspicious if we left her alive. Only way we got her out was because Malik covered for us. Which we think he did to save face in front of the others. Kept the situation from escalating.”
Xan chews on his lip, “As much as I don't want to kill her, I don't think we have a choice. Fortunately, it's not my call to make.”
He turns to Crina.
She promptly deflects to me. “Well you like saving humans so damn much, here’s another one for you.”
Dade stifles a laugh.
“I can make a call to Abrams, we can hand her over to the DIA,” I suggest.
“That’s an option, I guess. Requires trusting a lot of humans when I’d rather we come up with a solution that involves as few as possible. Thinking drugging and leaving in the desert might be a better option.” She takes out her gun. “We should question her first, find out what she knows. Has anyone talked to her?”
Xan shakes his head.
“This is not The Hangover, we’re not roofying her and stranding her somewhere,” I grumble. I am hoping to be met with support; instead I’m met with indifferent silence. “Fine, let me talk to her before we make the call.”
The girl sits on the mattress, knees tucked into her chest. When Crina and I enter she looks up, but doesn’t move. Behind us, Dade’s massive frame fills the doorway. Clearly she’s smart enough to know not to try to run, but his intimidating presence doesn’t hurt. And I know better than to ask Crina to put the gun away.
There’s a bottle of water against the wall, a small first aid kit and a box of granola bars. I picture them, mostly likely Xan, running into a gas station convenience store trying to figure out what to buy for a human. I grab a bottle of water and hand it to her as I remove the gag.
“Thanks,” she manages as she takes the bottle. The zip ties on her wrist tighten as she fumbles to bring it to her lips. I squat down in front of her, making eye contact, trying to look as nonthreatening as possible.
“I’m going to ask you a few questions. If you cooperate I’m optimistic we can work something out.
As you might have guessed, we’re not working with the ones that took you. Do you understand?”
She lowers the bottle from her lips and nods.
“How did you end up in that bunker?”
“They grabbed me off the street. The last thing I remember I was walking back to my hotel. We were staying at a place off the strip and I went out to get takeout and on my way back I took a shortcut through an alley.” She hesitates, then continues in a shaky voice. “Next thing I recall is waking up chained to a wall in a dungeon or whatever that place was. A cell. With at least a dozen other people. The big guy – he saw them.”
“So you were jumped in an alley? Did you have any interaction with your assailant?”
“I don’t recall. I’ve had a headache since I woke up. Whoever jumped me must’ve hit me hard, I may have a concussion.”
“And you said ‘we’ – how many people were staying at the hotel?”
“Just me and my boyfriend. He got into this poker tournament. We aren’t well off and this poker thing was his idea to earn some cash. He's going to be looking for me.”
“Okay,” Crina, quickly bored by the backstory, cuts her off and pulls me to my feet. “This isn't going to get us anywhere.”
“She needs a doctor. Let’s drop her off at a hospital. I’ll call Abrams, he’ll intercept before local authorities can question her.”
Crina wrestles with my proposal while walking across the room to Dade.
“When you brought her here, was she blindfolded?”
“No, but we had her in the back of a windowless van.”
“Blindfold her and take her to a hospital. Xan?” Crina sticks her head out the door. He’s standing in the hallway on his phone and looks up when he hears his name. “Can you look up a hospital near Las Vegas? One that’s closer to where she was abducted then where we are now. Give the address to Dade and Lori.”
“You want us to drop her?” I ask.
“Dade can transport her. You get her name and give it to Abrams with the hospital location. Spare him the details, just make sure he knows to keep her story confidential. He needs to inform the local authorities that she's been found and is fine. All we want him to do is return her to her boyfriend. Home. Wherever. Then we all pretend none of this happened. You make that clear to the girl.”
“So I gotta transport her?” Dade seems uncomfortable with the responsibility.
“All you need to do is drive her to the hospital, cut her loose, and leave her out front. Cover the van’s plates. Quick in and out. Take Quinn with you if you want a hand, but she may want to be here for when Malik shows. You two work it out.”
“Yeah, yeah a’right, I can handle one lil’ human,” Dade disappears back inside the room.
Xan’s phone beeps.
“Malik’s here. I’m going to go let him in.”
“Good, take him to the conference room. I’ll track down the others.” Crina turns to me, gestures into the room, “This is as much for you as for her. If it was up to me, I’d listen to Xan and take her out of the equation. But I haven’t listened to you in the past and I’ve come to regret it, so make a call or whatever you gotta do, then join us.”
“Thank you, Crina, you made the right decision.”
Scoffing, she says, “Time will tell.”
Minutes later I bump into Xan by the back door.
“Have you seen Malik?” Xan asks with a befuddled expression on his face.
“Thought he was with you guys.”
“Nah, he texted that he was out front, no sign of him though.”
“Well he’s not out back, I just helped Dade load the girl into the van. He wasn’t out there.” Following him down the hall towards the conference room.
“How many entrances does this place have?”
“Just the two, we boarded up the rest. I’ll try calling again.”
Something strikes me from behind.
The pain is sharp and drops me to my knees. A thin spear of wood juts out from my chest. Time freezes. I stare blankly at the stake, expecting this to be it. The image of Catch disintegrating flashes in my mind. Seconds feel like minutes. When nothing happens I paw at it numbly, trying to get my hands to work, to yank it free.
There’s a skirmish behind me. I’m vaguely aware of the others swarming my attacker as I collapse in the pool of blood rapidly forming at my knees. Out of the corner of my eye I see the others holding Malik down. Weapons drawn. Yelling panicked threats.
Xan appears at my side. He’s saying something, but I can’t hear him. My ears are ringing and the pain in my chest is excruciating.
He yanks the stake out and puts pressure on my chest. Quinn is saying something to him, he’s nodding.
Their blurry figures fade to black.
Chapter 23
When I regain consciousness I’m lying on a cot. The room takes a few minutes to come into focus. And it takes a few minutes longer for my memory to return.
Malik tried to kill me. Shit.
My hand reaches for the wound. My chest has been wrapped in gauze below my bra. It feels like my ribcage is being held together by tape. Which is partly the case. My insides are throbbing.
“You’re awake,” Crina says, pulling a chair up.
She extends a glass of blood. When I don’t reach for it she pushes it under my nose, “You need to drink. It’s nothing short of a miracle that stake missed your heart. Don’t push your luck.”
I slide the pillow back; bloody bandages stick to the mattress as I try to prop myself up.
“Malik?” I ask, taking the glass.
She nods. “We're holding him in the room we had the human in. He hasn’t said a word. Rex and Quinn are trying to get him to talk, to reason with him. Maybe get some answers.”
“Guess we can confirm he isn't working undercover.”
“Sadly, it's pretty certain which side he stands on at the moment.” She shakes her head, a dismayed expression on her face.
We've had too many close to us betray our trust. Crina especially. I'm not sure how far back they go, but to know someone for that long, to respect them...you think you know who they are and what they stand for and it all goes out the window. His actions almost got her killed back in Europe. And now this. It's far from over. His fate aside, what he's already set in motion could still get us all killed.
“I know why he did it.”
Her eyes widen at that. I polish off the glass and set it down.
“I mean not specifically, but I can venture a guess. He's leading a rebellion against the Purebloods. It’s possible my new connection to them means what I see they see. He needed to take out their window to his operations.”
“How would he know what happened in the temple? Vega?”
Xan enters the room, smiles broadly when he sees I'm up.
“Hey, how are you feeling?”
“I've been better. Is Malik talking?”
Xan says, “I just came back from installing motion detectors around the complex. He came alone but we should be prepared for an attack.”
Crina nods then turns back to me.
“He's knows you're a see'er. He may be afraid of you getting too close. Seeing what he's planning. He wasn't going to take the same risk Marcus took.”
She's right. I am a little disturbed I didn't see his attack coming. But missing visions at critical moments has been par for the course. I'm more disturbed by what motivated him to do it. And why he failed...how he failed...the stake punctured my chest a little low and at a bit of an angle but I don't think he missed my heart entirely.
“He's a see'er too.”
“What?” They respond in unison.
“He's never said anything to you guys? Years back during the attack on Trion he alluded to it. Said I wasn’t the only one who 'saw.'“
“Implying he gets premonitions too,” she says, piecing it together. I see her mind racing and I say what she's thinking.
“So he may have seen something and concluded that taking me out
of the picture, drastic as it may be, was the only option.”
“He had to know we'd kill him,” Xan adds, pouring me another glass of blood. “Whether or not you survived. We still adhere to the Pureblood laws and that means traitors see the sun. Not that we wouldn't take him out, law or not.” Xan flashes me a reassuring grin.
“It was a suicide mission,” Crina concludes.
“Question is: what did he see that was worth dying over?”
***
The door snaps shut behind me. The air is stale, warm, and devoid of fear. The bitter stench of his blood fills the room. They've wrapped Malik in ropes and cords; whatever they had lying around. I notice a few computer cables. Beneath the bloody clothes and swollen flesh, sits a broken man.
He opens his eyes, they widen as I approach.
Yeah asshole, I'm walking.
“I don't have anything to say to you,” he says flatly.
“Yeah no kidding. You prefer a healthy back stabbing.”
“I did what had to be done.”
“Did you now?”
“If you saw what I saw, you'd have done the same.”
I want so much for him to admit he got carried away. To tell me this was all a mistake, an experiment gone horribly wrong. That he tried to start his own clan, but things got out of hand. He never intended for things to go this far.
Anything but what I see now in his eyes.
“That's the thing Malik. I didn't see. I rarely get visions. And if I had, seeing is not understanding, so enlighten me.”
He remains stoic. After a moment, he says dismissively, “I already made my choice. I'm prepared to face the consequences.”
“It doesn't have to be this way.”
I grab a chair from the far wall, slide it across the cracked tile floor, swinging it around so the back faces him as I straddle it. I sit slowly, raising my eyes to meet his only when the pain subsides enough for me not to show it. I lean into the metal frame of the backrest.
He doesn't move, the bonds securing him in place don't slide an inch. Secure in his conviction, his eyes don't waiver from mine. Animosity fills the room.
