by Casey Wyatt
He held me fast and kept talking. “Thalia and I have a long and rocky history. She wants to steal my family bond, severing me from everyone.”
“She can’t,” I squeaked out.
“She can and she will,” he insisted. “It’s not a matter of if. It’s a matter of when. Think about it.”
Jonathan had never actually told me how old he was. But I knew he was older than he let on. He also had a stable family. And, bonus, he was extremely wealthy, had numerous friends in high places, and owned enough dirt to blackmail most of the high level vampires. Information, access and money: assets too useful for a new queen to pass up when trying to stabilize her powerbase.
“Shit. Can you stop her?” I asked, already suspecting the answer.
“Maybe. I’m willing to chance it.” He brandished the flyer again. “Which is why we’re heading to the recruitment office right now. I’ve arranged for –”
Sounds of a scuffle broke out in the hallway. Jonathan flashed out of my arms, the flyer practically hanging in mid-air from his rapid departure. Some of the more timid vampires shrunk back behind the props or other braver individuals. I couldn’t fault them. It’s what I wanted to do.
Jonathan had designated me his second? Holy shit. He trusted me to take over if anything happened to him. My stomach roiled from the possibility. I could never fill his shoes. I was a stripper. Hardly qualified for the job.
When he came back I’d tell him to pick someone else.
Low voices argued close to the door. The conversation was too muffled for me to follow.
The door opened. Jonathan called to me. “Cherry, come out here please.”
As ordered, I joined my sire. And lunged at the vampire standing next to him. “Asshole! I should have let you die!” An arm, strong as an iron bar, restrained me. “Jonathan, let me go. Why aren’t you turning him in?”
“Because I have something he wants,” Ian McDevitt said in his cheery and now totally annoying English accent.
“Besides your traitorous head? I highly doubt it.”
“You’re second has a lot to learn, mate.” Ian arched an eyebrow at me, face smug and confident.
Unsure, I turned to face Jonathan. “Sire?”
“Charity,” he said, “trust me.”
I flinched at my real name. I folded my arms over my chest. “Okay, Mr. English. Dazzle me. What do you have?”
“Glad you asked, Charity,” he rolled out each syllable of my name as if savoring it on his tongue. “I have a way out of here.”
“Hah! We have our own escape routes,” I snapped back. “You’ll have to do better than that.”
“Yes, the tunnels,” Ian smirked. “Those are now filled with zombies.”
My skin crawled at the word. Zombies were the polar opposite of revenants. Undead with almost no spirit. Mindless creatures that feasted on flesh to survive. Our races formed an unholy trinity of sorts. Body, spirit, and body. Vampires were the blood. Revenants the spirit. And zombies the flesh. Legend said revenants and zombies were vampires who had failed to turn properly. Revenants had too much spirit. Zombies not enough. And vampires were just right. Demented Goldilocks, if you ask me. So far, I’d never seen any evidence to prove the myth true.
“Thalia made sure they were good and starved before sending them down there.” Ian added for good measure. The wanker.
“I really hate her.”
“You and me both, sister,” Ian traded a long look with Jonathan. Information was exchanged, but I had no idea how. Probably secret man eye signals.
Jonathan spoke first. “We’re leaving.” He left me alone in the hallway with Ian.
“Charity—”
“Cherry. Only Jonathan gets to use my real name.”
“Fine. Apologies.” Ian stepped close enough that I could see flecks of gold in the blue of his irises. “I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind.”
Stunned, I moved back. Ian had no idea how many men had said those exact words to me over the years. “There must be something in my ears. Did I hear you correctly? Are you trying to pick me up at a time like this?”
A slow smile crept across his lips, revealing pearly white fang tips. “Right. I bet you hear that loads of times. What I should have said was I’ve been having these dreams—”
With a snort, I threw my hands up. “Okay. Stop right there. I don’t want to hear about your sick, twisted fantasies.”
Ian opened his mouth, no doubt to deny it, when his cell phone chirped. “Got to take this.” He turned his back to me and spoke low enough so I couldn’t hear him. Not that I planned on eavesdropping. I could care less.
Why should I stand around waiting on him? The family needed evacuating. I threw open the prop room door and the room was…empty?
What the fudge?
No tunnel passage existed in the prop room.
“I bet you’re wondering right about now, where is everyone?” Ian said from behind me.
I whirled around and slugged him.
CHAPTER FOUR
On a normal day, I would never lose control and hit someone in the face. I wasn’t that kind of girl. I also wouldn’t have enjoyed hitting anyone else. I admit a small swirl of satisfaction curled inside my belly.
“What the bloody hell was that for?” Ian clutched his nose, crimson drops leaking between his fingers. “Crazy strumpet!”
“Where is everyone?” Worry for my family overrode the momentary pleasure.
“They’re safe.” Ian wiped the blood away with a handkerchief, careful not to drip blood. He must have been worried about leaving a trail for Thalia’s men.
Wood cracked, echoing down the hallway. Low, throaty moans followed shortly after.
“Time to go. Before the zombies get us. You know they’re not discriminating in what they eat.” Ian circled my waist with his arm and snugged me next to his body.
“What are you doing?” He held me fast, despite my efforts to loosen his grip.
“Saving us. Hang on tight, luv.” With a mighty tug, Ian launched us upward, toward the ceiling where the upper skylight lay open to the night sky.
A scream lodged in my throat. The door shattered. A boatload of zombies spilled into the room, heading right in the spot where we had stood. Ravenous beasts, they gnawed on the floorboards, eating props where vampires had been standing. Really, quite disgusting.
“Still want me to let go?” Ian asked, landing on the roof. He peered over the edge of the skylight. “Look at them go.”
I growled about to push Ian away when he thrust upward again. Afraid, I latched onto him like a barnacle.
A moment later, the building and the zombies were far below us.
“Holy shit!” I gasped. The rush of high speed air pushed the words back into my throat
He could fly! I gripped Ian’s shoulders and molded my body so close, I could have crawled inside. I buried my face into his shirt so I couldn’t see. Deep masculine laughter rumbled from his chest. My hands were gripped too tight for me to even think about whacking him.
My mouth worked fine, “God damn it! You could have warned me.”
Ian laughed again. “And argue with you all night? Not bloody likely.”
We dropped abruptly. My stomach jumped up over my head. I screamed and squeezed my eyes shut.
“Sorry.” Ian twisted around, changing position. He was on his back and I lie atop him. “Don’t move.”
I stupidly opened my eyes in time to see us flying between two narrow buildings. The walls so close, if I had stuck and arm out, it would have been clipped off.
“Almost there.” Ian shouted.
We flipped again. This time slower and more gradually.
Ian’s almost there turned out to be another hour. An hour where I learned I could hold a death grip for a long, long time. Eventually, we glided over a wide, grassy plain, the landscape of Texas far behind.
“We’re in Oklahoma,” Ian shouted over the whistling wind. “We’re landing in a moment. Don’t let
go.”
No danger of that happening.
Minutes later, we stopped. “You can open your eyes now.” Ian said, with a smile in his voice.
Tussled blonde hair and a rumpled white shirt filled my gaze. For a moment, I couldn’t move. Every muscle in my body wound so tight, I expected them to snap.
“Where are we?” I managed to squeak out from my parched throat. We were standing in a grassy field. Gentle breezes rustled the blades, the scratchy ends scraped against my ankles. The sun had set and the night sky glittered with stars.
“There’s a door in need of a building.” The door, flanked by three cement walls, jutted out from the plain. The box’s back half angled down, disappearing into the grass laden prairie.
“Welcome to USI’s recruitment center.” Ian ran his hands down my back. Strong fingers massaged my tight muscles. I tried not to enjoy it on principle, but it wasn’t working. I leaned into him, enjoying the sensation. Tension eased away, from my head down to my toes.
“Cherry. Listen. We didn’t finish our conversation earlier. I’ll try not to bungle it again so badly.”
Drat. He had to ruin my good time. “Ian. I don’t want to hear about any kinky shit.”
“No. Please,” he said, as if insulted by the implication. “I have manners.”
“Good to know.” With a low groan, I flexed my hands and stretched my aching fingers and sore palms. Pins and needles shot down stiff limbs as the blood shifted around.
“I know Jonathan wants to take the family off world, but you could escape with me,” he said.
A smart aleck comment died on my lips. His solemn gaze bore into mine. No sign of mirth in his eyes or face. “Ian. It’s a nice offer. But, I won’t leave my family behind. I can’t do the rogue thing.”
“I thought, together, we could prove our innocence. Running away will further incriminate you.”
“We’d still be running. And, I barely know you. You could be guilty.”
“I’m no more guilty than you are,” he bent closer, peering into my eyes. Two deep blue pools enticed me to come closer.
“Did you really think I’d just run off with you?”
“You’re like me. You crave adventure.”
“No, I don’t.” Liar, liar pants on fire. Didn’t I want a chance to escape? The rogue lifestyle had its appeal: no sire, no rules. Scary and intriguing at the same time. “A quiet life is fine with me. I’m nothing like you.”
Ian chuckled. “Are you certain?"
Those skilled fingers traced slow circles around the small of my back, hammering at my resistance. Warmth tingled in all the right places. No. Make that all the wrong places.
Ian could be a traitor and the Queen’s murderer. Guilty or innocent, he was responsible for the mess I was in.
Time to change the topic. “How did everyone else escape?”
“I told you. I have my ways,” Ian’s fingers stopped their circular motion. “Heads up. Here comes your thrall.”
Jay marched out of the doorway and deftly plucked me out of Ian’s arms. Ian shrugged the maneuver off with an arched eyebrow, his lips curled in a small smile. “Protective, isn’t he?”
“Yes,” I called over my shoulder. We entered the stairwell and as soon as the heavy security door slammed shut, I jerked free. “What the hell?”
Jay continued marching down the stairs, his voice trailing behind him. “Didn’t like the look of him. Jonathan sent me to fetch you. Get a move on.”
Ian’s voice rumbled next to my ear, “What cheek for a thrall. I’m surprised you put up with it.”
My body jumped about half a mile. I hadn’t heard him approach. Note to self. Pull head out of ass. “Well, he’s entitled,” I said. My past with Jay wasn’t Ian’s business. Without further explanation, I raced down the steps in a blur, my feet barely touching the concrete steps.
Not fast enough to outdistance Ian. He politely opened the landing door for me and threw in a slight bow for good measure. A long corridor opened before us. The cement walls were smooth with no doors or windows. Harsh fluorescent lights hung overheard, casting an eerie gray pallor on the walls.
“Were you a domestic once?” I sauntered through the door way spine straight, head and shoulders aligned. If I had a parasol and a corset and I’d be Charity Belmont, genteel lady, once again.
Ian snorted, “No. But I can tell money when I see it. You were a spoiled rich girl. One of your parents, your mum, I think, must have been English. Probably landed gentry. Or aristocracy, judging by the airs you put on.”
“I don’t put on airs.” He was right about my mother. She was the daughter of an Earl. But I wasn’t telling him that.
The long hallway ended at a single reinforced metal entryway. Instead of a rectangular shape, the door was circular. “Are we in a missile silo?”
Ian clapped lightly. “I’m astounded by your intellect.”
I flipped him off before entering a spacious briefing room. The entire family was seated in folding chairs, talking amongst themselves, the vibe a mix of fear, anticipation and unease. Large whiteboards dominated the right side wall. A projector screen was pulled down against the back wall. A short vampire with cropped hair and an all-black suit stood at a small wooden podium.
“Glad you could finally join us, Ms. Cordial,” he said. Great, another limey bastard. Someone in the audience tittered at the remark, only to be shushed.
Jonathan motioned from his seat in the front row, directing me to sit by him. Ian sat in the empty chair next to mine.
The vampire cleared his throat. Once, then twice. After mopping his brow with a handkerchief, a nervous tick, since vamps don’t sweat, he addressed us. “Welcome to the Undead Space Initiative. My name is Prior and I’m your mission director. I’m pleased to see such a large,” he paused, “and quite unexpected turnout.”
He stopped and flipped over his speech. “You are about to embark on an exciting adventure only a privileged few are allowed to make.”
My eyes shot daggers at Jonathan when I saw his enthusiastic smile. Had he lost his mind? I wanted to get up and shake him and the idiots in the family who believed we could travel to Mars.
Prior droned on for a few more minutes, then flicked off the lights and fired up his laptop projector. A cheesy narrator perkily explained the benefits of the undead traveling into space. God, it was like a nineteen sixties era, space race propaganda film.
“… the undead are well suited for space exploration,” said the perfectly coiffed blonde hostess. “We need less sleep. We don’t use the bathroom or breathe. We can tolerate extreme conditions and with proper planning, we can survive with limited blood supplies. A recent breakthrough in blood banking techniques will allow us to replicate the rich nourishing blue blood, without risking the donor vampire’s health and well-being.”
I rolled my eyes. What a relief. At least I wouldn’t be turned into a cafeteria for the journey. I shivered. What was I thinking? This whole thing had to be a colossal hoax.
The presentation lasted another twenty minutes. By the end, questions were ready to burst out of me. The light snapped on and I raised my hand. Jonathan narrowed his eyes, but didn’t tell me to shut up.
Jay pressed his fingers over his closed eyelids, his head shaking slightly.
“Excuse me, Mr. Prior.” I waved my hand.
“Yes, Ms. Cordial,” he said warily. This guy didn’t know me, so why the ‘tude?
“How are we getting there? I mean, where is the spaceship?” Other heads around the room nodded. I raised my eyebrows at Jonathan. See? Not a crazy question.
“Excellent inquiry. Glad you asked,” even though his snooty tone told me otherwise. “The ship is currently hidden behind the dark side of the moon.”
Side conversations erupted around the room. Jonathan whistled and everyone shut up.
“And how are we getting to the moon?” I could barely suppress the laughter trapped in my throat. What a bunch of bullshit.
Prior continued, �
��It may or may not have escaped your notice, but we are currently in a decommissioned missile silo.”
Jonathan grabbed my wrist before I could make a snide comeback. “Let him finish.”
I sat back in my seat and pretended to feign rapt attention as Prior explained the new technological breakthroughs vampire scientists had made. When he started to go into the specifics, Jay, Jonathan and Ian paid rapt attention. Everyone else, me included, had slipped into a glaze eyed stupor.
Prior concluded the science lecture with me none the wiser on how we would get to Mars.
I raised my hand again. “What’s our mission?” Aside from saving the family from Thalia. I turned to Jonathan and spoke in a low voice, “There must be a banana republic or some country you could buy protection from.”
He frowned and motioned for me to pay attention.
“My, you are full of intelligent questions, Ms. Cordial,” Prior said. I couldn’t tell if he mocked me or if he was normally a snotty, stuck-up Englishman. A quick glance at Ian’s passive face gave me no indication one way or the other.
“For the last six months, USI has been dropping supplies around the Martian landing zone.” A few mouse clicks later and an aerial map of Mars appeared. “We’ve had to be clever and disguise the containers so the human satellites wouldn’t catch wind of them.”
“Yes, we wouldn’t want those pesky humans to think there’s life on Mars,” I said. “We wouldn’t want them to beat us to the planet’s riches.” From what I could see, Mars was a big, red rock. And the undead wouldn’t be adding any life to the place.
Pleased, Prior clutched the side of his lapels and smiled. For a moment, I thought he might come over and pat my head. “Quite right, Ms. Cordial.”
Sarcasm was clearly lost on the guy. “The supplies are there for what reason?”
“To build a colony, of course,” Prior frowned. There went my gold star.
“Of vampires?” Someone else in the crowd piped in.
“Well, not exclusively of vampires —”
Alarm claxons rang. The lights flickered before the room went dark. Seconds later, emergency lights kicked on, emitting a dull red glow.
Crap. My first thought, Thalia had found us. We were trapped in a missile silo like fish in a barrel.
