“Right. You need help with the big guy there?”
“No, I’ve got this. I’ll be out soon, and I’ll talk to Natalie.”
NATALIE KNEW something had happened the minute she looked up from her computer to find Christian and Marc both storming into the kitchen dressed in black from head to toe like a couple of special ops guys from a summertime action flick. Her heart was doing its best to crack a few ribs as she slipped off the kitchen stool and met Christian’s somber gaze.
“What is it?” she asked him breathlessly.
“Hubert hit the border outpost south of Laredo,” he said briskly, striding past her to the alarm panel where he started punching buttons. Shutters she hadn’t noticed before began sliding down over all the windows, including the big sliding glass door. And these weren’t the fancy, decorative kind of shutters, either. They looked more like the heavy metal barriers that some people installed against hurricanes back home in Louisiana.
“What are you doing?” she asked in alarm.
“Activating a total lockout. Stay in the house and you’ll be fine.”
“Stay . . .” she repeated slowly. “Are you leaving? Where are you going?”
“Alon’s downstairs—”
“Stop!” she shouted. “I know where Alon is. Now, tell me what’s happening.”
Christian walked over and put his hands on her shoulders, squeezing lightly before moving his grip down to her arms. “Scoville called from Laredo. Hubert is on the move, and Anthony is MIA. Marc and I are flying down to help Scoville and his team hold the line until Vincent can get there with some serious fire power. You’ll remain here with Alon.”
“I thought you said—”
“He’s already fed, and will sleep until tomorrow night.”
“Then why can’t I go with you?”
“It’s a war, Natalie, a vampire war. There will be no humans on the field.”
“I know you think I’m useless—”
“I do not.”
“—but I can sh—”
“I need you safe,” he almost shouted, cutting off her protests. “Marc and I will be on our own out there,” he continued in his regular voice. “With allies who will probably be as happy to stab us in the back as fight by our side. I can’t keep you safe and watch Marc’s back at the same time. Do you understand that?”
Natalie hated it, but she understood. Except . . . “You’re trusting Scoville’s word on this?”
“Never. I trust no one but Marc. He has my back, and I have his. For the rest . . .” He shrugged. “As long as they’re willing to kill our enemies, I’ll stand by them. But trust? No.”
“I understand. I do, but—” Her attention was dragged away from an argument she already knew she wasn’t going to win, at the sight of Marc upending a bag of blood over his mouth and sucking it dry. She stared, more fascinated than she would have thought possible. “You can drink that stuff?” she asked, turning back to Christian.
“That stuff is human blood, though we prefer the warm, fresh kind,” he said, a small smile playing around his lips. He caught a full bag that Marc tossed his way, broke the seal, and gave her a warning look, as if to say, “This is your last chance to look away.”
Natalie shook her head. This was an important part of Christian’s life. If she turned away from it, she might as well walk out the front door and never come back.
He shrugged, then tilted his head back and drank, just as Marc had before him.
She glanced over at Marc, and asked, “Where’d you get that? I didn’t see any in there.” She gestured at the big stainless steel refrigerator where her perfectly ordinary food was stored.
“Vegetable crisper,” he said, grinning. “A special compartment in the back.”
“Oh,” Natalie said faintly, and turned back just in time to see Christian finish off the bag and toss the empty to Marc. “So what’s with the DEFCON 1 security?” she asked him. “You never did that before.”
Christian licked his lips before answering. “Normally, I drop the shutters every night. But I didn’t want to freak you out before I managed to seduce you.” He grinned at her scowl, and continued. “It’s for your protection. Anthony still wants you, chére. Never doubt it. We don’t know where he is, and we can’t be sure what’s really happening down in Laredo.”
“Then why are you going? Shouldn’t you wait—?”
“Because whether it’s a trap, or a real threat, vampires are dying down there. I can’t stand by and let that happen.”
Natalie was scared out of her mind, and trying not to show it. Not for herself, though. She had the gun Leighton had sent her. If Anthony tried anything, she’d shoot him and be done with it. But she was terrified that something would happen to Christian. And then what would she do? She’d just found him. She couldn’t lose him now.
“Chopper’s five minutes out,” Marc said, standing in the short hallway that led to the garage. He was plainly ready to leave, staring at the two of them, as if urging them to get on with it.
“Natalie,” Christian said softly, squeezing both of her hands and drawing her attention back to him. “The security system is fully armed, every door and window locked down. No one can get in or out without the code.”
“What if there’s a fire?” she asked, trying to be rational, to be calm. She’d be fine. He needed to worry about himself.
He let go of her hands to write a number down on a sticky note and press it against the counter next to her laptop. “If you need to get out, enter that code on the alarm panel next to the front door, or the sliding door here. It won’t work anywhere else. You’ll only be able to open that door, but all of the window shutters will be accessible from inside the house. Everything will lock down again after sixty seconds, or when the door is closed, whichever comes first.”
“But what about Alon? He’s too heavy for me—”
“If you’re in danger, don’t worry about Alon. You get out and call Jaclyn. She’ll help you.”
“I’m not leaving Alon in a burning house!” she said, staring at him in shock.
He gave an impatient growl, gripping her shoulders again and shaking her slightly. “There’s not going to be a fire. But if there is, Alon will be safer than you. He’s locked in a fireproof vault in the basement.”
“Oh. All right, then.” Privately, she was thinking that meant she could leave anytime she needed to. Not that she would readily abandon Alon, or defy Christian either. But as long as Alon was protected, she could think of several scenarios where she’d have to break out of this prison, er, safe house. None of which she shared with Christian, who was regarding her with evident concern.
“We’ll be fine,” she told him. “You worry about yourself and Marc. I don’t trust any of Anthony’s people.”
“Neither do I. But if this is Hubert’s grand move, he needs to be stopped. And I need to be there when it happens.”
She nodded again, then wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing herself into the already familiar comfort of his muscled body. Fighting tears she was determined not to show, she kissed his cheek, then the corner of his mouth. His arms were bands of iron around her.
“Come back to me,” she whispered.
“Always.”
He was trying to be patient, trying to give her what she needed. But she could feel the same tension in his body that she’d noticed in Marc’s. She stepped back with a forced smile.
“You, too, Marc,” she called over to him. “I want you both back here in one piece.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Marc said, but he tossed a set of keys up into the air, catching them impatiently.
Natalie surprised herself by laughing. “Okay, the girlfriend drama is over. You’re free to go.”
Christian speared his fingers through her hair, tugging her head b
ack, before settling his mouth over hers in a luxurious, lazy kiss that held everything sensuous and loving, and nothing of his need to leave.
“You be good while I’m gone,” he murmured against her mouth, then kissed her one last time, and turned away to stride down the hallway. Marc was already in the garage, the door swinging shut as Christian caught it with one hand. He turned and gave her a final wink good-bye, and then he was gone.
Chapter Eleven
Patrizia, Mexico
VINCENT LEANED out the open door of the helicopter, studying the small coastal town. It was suspiciously quiet. The streets were dark and empty, despite the warm weather and relatively early hour. He considered the fact that this was a fishing village, and that fishermen tended to go out early in the morning, and, hence, would go to bed early, as well. But his vampire senses were telling him something different. There were humans down there, but not as many as there should have been. And they were all huddled behind closed doors and windows.
His chopper was a big Sikorsky, outfitted for military transport, not comfort, so he was able to fit eighteen of his best warriors on-board, in addition to the two pilots and Lana. If it was up to him, Lana’s fine ass wouldn’t leave her seat, but he knew that wasn’t likely. The best he could hope for was to keep her far back from the front line, which was where she could do the most good anyway. She couldn’t go hand-to-hand with a vampire, not even one of Hubert’s zombies, but she was very handy with a gun, and had excellent tactical sense.
He sat down and flicked the switch on his headset to open the command channel, which would connect him with only Lana and his lieutenant, Michael. “Something’s wrong down there,” he said.
“I think that’s a given,” Lana said dryly. “Why else would we be here?”
Vincent gave her a dirty look. “There are humans in the town, but not many, and no vamps,” he clarified. “Mikey, have the pilot circle wider. Hubert’s army has to be here somewhere.” He watched Michael switch over to the pilots’ channel, then turned to Lana. “Whatever goes down tonight, you hang back, and use your gun. Try to find a spot where you can assess the battle for me.”
“Uh huh,” she said, nudging him with her elbow. “You’re not fooling me, babe. But I’ll go along with it, because this time, you’re right.”
“This time?” He couldn’t hear her snort in response, but he could see it.
“Here we go.” Michael’s voice came back on the channel as the helicopter banked, taking them wide over the foothills, which formed a narrow crescent-moon around the small village. There was a strip of flatland, a little over a hundred yards deep between the last houses and the first hills.
As they flew, Vincent closed his eyes. He didn’t need to see where they were going. Not with his eyes anyway. He opened himself to the extraordinary senses of his vampire nature, and the world narrowed and opened up at the same time. He was exquisitely aware of every one of his vampires around him, of the powerful link he had with Michael as his first child. But stronger and brighter than any other was his mate bond with Lana. She was in every beat of his heart, the very fire in his blood. How could anyone have ever doubted his feelings for her?
But he put that aside for now, stretching his awareness beyond the helicopter, searching for his enemy. He’d never met any of the European vampires, but Hubert had a reputation, and both Raphael and Christian had confirmed that rep. That he was powerful went without saying—he was centuries old and a vampire lord. But his notoriety went beyond that. He was ruthless and cruel, caring for nothing but his own lust for power. The very fact that he used up humans in order to create vampires who were barely deserving of the title, and who had no purpose but to be torn apart in the grinder of his ambition . . . that said it all.
They’d nearly finished the first pass of the foothills, when Vincent’s senses twinged in awareness. Without opening his eyes, he spun his raised finger in a circle, and heard Michael giving the pilots directions. The chopper banked again, sharply, and Vincent stood, drawn closer to the open door. The sign he was looking for suddenly blazed across his vampire senses. It wasn’t a gradual thing. It was more like a door that had been shut was suddenly opened.
Flicking the command channel open, he said, “That’s it, almost directly below us. Get us close enough to deploy.”
He opened his eyes then, physically searching the crumpled land of the foothills. There were a hundred places for even a large group to hide down there, but only from human eyes.
“My lord?” Michael stood next to him in the doorway, matching Vincent’s searching posture.
“More than thirty so far,” Vincent said absently, still counting. “They’re clustered together, and their presence is weak. It’s difficult to get a good count. Hubert’s zombies, I’m thinking.”
“But no Hubert?”
“There’s a stronger presence, but just one. And it’s muted, as if he’s trying to hide.” Vincent swore softly. “I wish I’d met him before, or at least touched his power.”
“Who else could it be?”
“Good question.”
The pilot’s voice came over the channel. “Going down, my lord. Topo display says there’s a valley down there. I should be able to hover at twenty feet.”
“That’ll do,” Vincent responded, taking his seat next to Lana.
“Can we light it up?” the pilot asked, requesting permission to clear the chosen landing zone by using the chopper’s two six-barreled machine guns, one on each side. They could fire 4000 rounds per minute, and were more than enough to clear a landing space for Vincent and his troops.
“Do it,” Vincent said, then nodded at two of his vampire fighters who took up their stations at the Miniguns, waiting for the pilot’s signal. Vincent clicked off his headphone and signaled for Lana to do the same. It was about to get very noisy up here.
Vincent caught the slight tensing of the gunner’s muscles, and touched Lana’s thigh in warning an instant before the guns opened up. Vampires cursed as hot cartridges spit from the feeder, a few of them bouncing around the compartment before making it out the door. He caught one in his bare hand as it flew at Lana’s head, and tossed it into the open air, pretending like his hand wasn’t burning like fuck. Lana took his hand and kissed the raw palm, which almost made it all better. He turned with a grin, and she rolled her eyes at him, mouthing the word, “Men.”
He gave her a quick, hard hug. He was a vampire, not a man, but it was too noisy in the chopper to tell her that right now. He’d have to remember it for later.
The pilot’s voice came over his headset, on the broadcast channel, giving everyone the head’s up. “Ten seconds.”
Over at the door, Michael had his hands up where all of the fighters could see them, counting down.
When he hit two seconds, Vincent stood. He would be the first one out. Michael’s expression told him what his lieutenant thought about that, but they both knew it had to be this way. Vincent led from the front. He never asked his people to risk more than he did.
The ground was suddenly there. Vincent stepped into the open air, dropped the twenty or so feet, and landed easily. Vampires didn’t need ropes, not at this height. Lana did, but she hated to be the only one. He eyed the chopper closely, waiting for her slender figure to fill the doorway.
And there she was, one arm above her head, gripping the header over the door. Behind her, Vincent could see Michael, making sure Vincent was waiting for her, ready to grab her if necessary. Vincent waved a hand, knowing Lana wouldn’t be able to see it in the dark. She’d have a hissy fit if she knew he was watching out for her. The rope slithered out the chopper door. She grabbed it and jumped. And Vincent’s heart jumped with her.
He didn’t catch her as much as he braced her, hands on her waist, easing her impact with the hard, rocky ground, as she released the rope. Her knees bent to absorb the sho
ck, and she immediately straightened, giving him a narrow look. Vincent merely shrugged. He wasn’t about to let her break a leg to make a point, no matter what she wanted. As the chopper lifted away, he put his mouth to her ear, and said, “Remember your position.”
She stiffened to attention and raised her hand to snap off a sarcastic salute, when suddenly her eyes went wide and attitude went out the window.
Vincent spun, and stared at what was coming at them. They’d all been calling Hubert’s creations zombies, for lack of a better word, but that’s exactly what they looked like. Red-eyed and blank-faced, but moving well enough, as they scrambled down the surrounding hillsides, heading toward Vincent and his people. Some were sporting very un-vampire-like wounds that should have healed by now. From the reports he’d read, it had been hours since this group had fought anyone, and longer still since their attack on the town. Even a low-level vampire would have been able to heal anything short of a lost limb by now. But whatever these creatures were, their vampire symbiote was so weak that they weren’t healing properly. Vincent didn’t think he could have created vampires like this. Didn’t know how it was done. Was this Hubert’s special talent? The equivalent of Vincent’s ability to read memories? Could such a thing be called a talent? It was an atrocity.
But whatever else these primitive vampires were, right now they were the enemy, and there was no doubt of their intent. They were here to kill anyone who got in their way.
Vincent did a quick survey of the battlefield. They were in a relatively clear space, surrounded by sloping hills of sandy rock. The ground beneath them was flat, but littered with small stones and gritty dirt, made worse by the “clearing” they’d done before landing. But the moon was bright behind scattered clouds, casting more than enough light for his vampires to fight by.
Christian (Vampires in America: The Vampire Wars Book 10) Page 27
