by Jackie Ivie
Over.
And over.
And that’s when a cell phone rang.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Akron didn’t mince words.
“Eska?”
“Yes?” Her voice warbled.
“Come down to the command center. As soon as you are able.”
“I don’t...know where it is.” Shaking betrayed her. As did the sob at the end of her answer.
“Follow the buzzing noise.”
He hung up. She raced to her suitcase, flung on a dress. Didn’t care what color. What length. If her hair was tidied. She rushed into the hall, and listened. There was a distinct buzzing noise echoing through the hall. To her left. Down a set of stairs. Another. She plaited her hair as she followed the sound. She had a braid finished before a set of double-doors came into sight. Metallic. Warm to the touch. They vibrated when she touched them. Eska pushed the portal open.
And stared, dumbfounded.
Hundreds of two- and three-story length crystalline pillars dangled above her head. Most of them swaying. It resembled an enormous wind chime set. Only this one contained sparkling rods instead of metallic ones. And the sound wasn’t ringing. It was a low, rumbling buzz so vibrant, she could feel it through her skin. But then she heard Akron’s voice filter through the space from the far end. Nigel’s voice followed.
“You’re watching along with me, Nigel.”
“I know, Sir, but it’s delayed on this end. There goes number two. No wait. That was three. Wow. That one looked especially gruesome.”
“The boy does know swordplay, doesn’t he? Although...it’s not surprising.”
Paul Henry.
Eska sped across the stone floor. Pushed through another set of metallic doors. The chamber within was voluminous. Dark. And alive with images. There was an array of wall-sized monitors on display, mounted in a half-round arrangement, like a theater production. Akron sat in a large chair in the midst of them, several command boards at his fingertips. The views in the monitors kept changing. Some were focused on the halls and common rooms of the complex. Several more had images of snow, forest, and a lot of sky. The center ones featured moving shadow figures, each illuminated by an outline of sparks.
“Ouch. Look at that hit! This guy has some far-out decapitation techniques. We should add him to the league.”
“Yes. We should.”
Akron’s voice had a note to it Eska had never heard before. Nigel had the same impression, if his next words were accurate.
“You sound a tad annoyed, Sir.”
“I am not a tad anything, Nigel.”
“Slightly angry?”
“Once again, that is a negative.”
“You sound...peeved?” Nigel tried again.
“If you want the truth, I am extraordinarily pissed off!”
Sound from the volume of Akron’s statement was like a blast wave. It pushed Eska’s dress against her frame, lifted stray hairs. There was a high-pitched hum for several moments while all the monitors rattled. Everything settled back. Eska hadn’t moved.
“Well. Ahem. I’m glad we got that settled. Akron is not slightly anything. He is majorly pissed off. Got it. Date. Time...”
“What are you doing?” Akron asked.
“Jotting a note for myself, Sir. So I can look over this episode later and figure out what I did that pissed you off. Because I never want to do it like...again.”
“It wasn’t you. And it wasn’t Eska. Come in, Eska. Please. What do you think of my resonating energy chamber?”
“Your what?”
“The quartz crystal power plant you were just in.”
“I’ve...never seen anything like it.”
“No one has. It’s experimental. Extremely efficient actually, once you get it started. I could install them in other locations. Or concoct something else...which is exactly the thing I would have thought a theoretical physicist would enjoy tinkering with. Come in. Please. Have a seat. We need to talk. Just...give me a few more moments.”
He waved her direction without looking. Eska stepped toward a leather sofa. Pulled up her skirt. Sat. Nigel’s voice came again. Rapid-firing words. Excited.
“Wait. Wait a second. Looks like our man is in trouble! He’s getting double-teamed. Behind you! Behind—!”
“Nigel. He cannot hear you.”
“I know. But it makes me feel better...oh! Wait a sec—! Whew. Looks like he can spin-kick and take off heads with the best of them. Wow. This guy is really good. I mean really good.”
“It’s not surprising. He’s very quick.” Akron paused as if searching for a better word. “Athletic. Determined. Although all he ever admitted to was boat rowing.”
Eska’s heart stuttered. She sat forward on the sofa. Focused on the screen with new intensity, but couldn’t make out which lightning-outlined shadow might be Paul Henry.
“He’s only got a couple more associates left. Yes?”
“Did I ever tell you how much I dislike my job sometimes?”
Eska stared at Akron’s side after he spoke. Nigel didn’t answer for a long moment, and then he queried in a choked voice.
“Come again, Sir?”
“You heard me.”
“You dislike being the head guy? Of like...the most powerful covert association ever?”
“Sometimes.” Sadness flickered across the great man’s features.
“May I ask why?”
Eska started. Nigel truly did sound like Paul Henry sometimes. He even had a slight British accent. Barely noticeable, but still there.
“There is a very large responsibility attached to the position. That means sometimes I am forced to do things that I do not wish to do. For instance, have you both noted the center monitors?”
That was the area filled with shadows and electrical flashes.
“Yes,” she replied.
“I’ve been glued to it,” Nigel responded.
“Well. You are both watching the same thing, but I believe you are each seeing it much differently.”
“Huh?”
Nigel and Eska had the same response. Nigel’s voice echoed through the speaker system.
“If I’m not mistaken, Eska is viewing a daring escape from a man who believes vampires are his enemy. Is this true?”
“I guess,” she said quietly.
“And you, Nigel, are watching several associates receive their just punishment. For violations of the rules.”
“Wait a minute. These guys are being punished?”
“No one comes to Siberia for the weather, Nigel.”
“What did they do?”
“Oh. The transgressions vary. They always do. Some are guilty of corruption. Racketeering. Insubordination. Blatantly disobeying a rule...such as turning a human without prior permission.”
Theresa. Eska’s eyes went wide. Her blood froze. She felt instantly light-headed. Her belly rolled. Her shaking returned with a vengeance.
“Whoa. Man! Would you check out that disembowelment? Ugh. Talk about your stomach-churning gore,” Nigel commented.
There was a shower of dark spots flitting across the center of the screen. It didn’t look remotely gory. Akron didn’t respond.
“So. Let me guess. This is the guy from the dungeon. He’s Eska’s mate...but for some reason, he’s not staying with her, and so...he is escaping. You set it up so he would handle your executions for you, thinking he’s taking out bad guys.”
“Close. Only it wasn’t exactly an execution. Everyone had a sword. Skills.”
“Oh. So...you turned it into a video game using real bodies.”
Akron cocked his head to the side as if considering. “Good summation. Very visual.”
“How did you know he’d win?”
“I didn’t.”
“Wasn’t that...kind-a risky?”
“Yes. But I had my reasons. I believed he’d be as good as he undoubtedly is. And despite current events to the contrary, I’m fairly perspicacious. I am usually extremely accu
rate. You can turn on the hangar lights now. And unlock the entire wing.”
“What?” Eska jumped to her feet. “No. Please?”
“I have no choice on the matter. That is what pisses me off so much.”
“But you can’t just let him go!”
“The man has no fondness for us, Eska. This escape of his was a test...to see if he had any compunction about eliminating us. Well. I got my answer, didn’t I?”
Nigel spoke up before she could. “But he was in an arena of death! What was he supposed to do?”
“Defense would have been an option. Non-engagement. Avoidance. I’m sorry. Both of you. But it isn’t just his hatred of us. I’ve got a bigger problem. It’s called rules.”
Nigel answered. “So? You’re the boss! Change them!”
“You just watched seven men sentenced for infractions. The rules have been in place for millennia. Inviolate. I cannot violate them. I cannot. You understand? And now both of you know why I dislike my position sometimes.”
“But who would know?”
Akron sighed heavily. It rumbled through the room, unsettling fixtures again. Eska put her hands to her breast.
“I’m sorry. You have no idea how sorry, but it’s out of my hands. We cannot force a mate to accept vampirism...even if it’s inadvertently done. The human party has to agree. Even after-the-fact, they still have to accept. We also do not change humans willy-nilly. For a non-mate, permission needs to be granted first. Those are the rules. You both know that.”
Tears filled her voice. She didn’t care. The words were warbled. “Sir? Please? Please! I know I violated the rule when I changed Theresa! I shouldn’t have done it. I am so very sorry. But if this is the punishment, I’d...rather perish.”
Akron’s voice was soft. “What is happening with Paul Henry is not about your friend, Eska.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Did you just say Paul Henry?”
“You heard correctly, Nigel.”
“That man is Paul Henry Beethan?”
“Correct again.”
“My grandson?”
“One, and the same.”
“Wait. What?” Eska’s jaw dropped. “Paul Henry is Nigel’s grandson?”
“You didn’t know? Apologies. Nigel is definitely Paul Henry’s grandfather. They actually resemble each other. At least, they used to.”
“He doesn’t sound old enough to shave.”
“Oh. Fine. Here come the age jokes again. I’ll have you know I was almost twenty...at the time.”
“I think you are both forgetting something here,” Akron said.
“Yeah. Stupid old rules. Well. I’m not in charge. And I don’t care what the punishment is. I’m locking the hangar again,” Nigel remarked.
Akron flicked a switch on his keyboard. “Out of your hands, dear boy. I believe he’s already in a cockpit.”
“Akron! It’s my grandson!”
“I know that. I do. I wish I could do something differently, here. But I used the most powerful weapon we possess, and it failed.”
“Try something else!”
“There is nothing more powerful than true love. You know that, Nigel. You’ve experienced it.”
“You can’t just let him go! He’ll head back to England! And they—? They—! Akron! No!” Nigel pleaded.
“It gets worse,” Akron answered.
“There is no worse.”
“The man has no on-screen image.”
“Well. Yeah. Duh. He’s a vampire.”
“No. He told me he was half,” Eska remarked.
Akron turned to her. She’d rarely looked at him. She didn’t know his eye color, and couldn’t tell now, but he had a definite shine atop his eyes. If he blinked, it might even become tears. He smiled sadly. Her heart stopped.
“I set it up...so he’d think that. It was my only means to control him without hurting him. Not forever, mind you. Just long enough, for you – and love – to work magic.”
The sound of a jet engine came wafting through the speakers. Akron turned back to the monitor.
“Well. Looks like our bird has flown. We have approximately thirty minutes. Do you want the monitors on? Or off? Anyone? They say ignorance is bliss, you know.”
The monitors featuring snow covered forest and sky went into the center. There was a small plane visible just above the tree line. Eska’s knees gave out. She sank to the floor.
“Okay. Fine. Just tell us. What happens in thirty minutes?” Nigel asked.
“Sunrise.”
Nigel yelled. Eska started screaming.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
All right.
He’d made it. The snowy forests of Russia rolled on in the distance. The GPS had already given him coordinates. He was in Siberia. The nearest airport that would recognize his name and status, and had the amenities he needed, was Tokyo. Well over 3500 miles.
But he was in the latest model Gulfstream.
Fully fueled.
The jet had one of the longest ranges in the private jet business. No worries there. It would be a long flight, though. But he’d stayed up for seventy-two hours before. More than once. It was a requirement of every man in Hunter training. So was swordplay. And martial art skills. Paul Henry hadn’t disclosed everything. While it was true he wasn’t a Hunter as of yet, he was definitely trained. To exterminate the most foul creatures in existence.
He’d prepared physically.
And mentally.
So why was everything so flat? Killing vampires wasn’t what he’d thought. There wasn’t any satisfaction. No rush of adrenaline. He’d taken out seven adversaries. They’d all been vampires. Every one of them had turned into dust after he’d delivered a killing blow. But they’d been pretty damned lifelike before. So much so, Paul Henry hadn’t even lifted his sword the first time he’d been accosted. Not until he’d been attacked, and realized the score.
Shit.
He’d been told killing a vampire was easy. So why couldn’t he get the images out of his head? He’d been trained since his toddler years. It hadn’t been especially graphic. The blood loss no worse than most horror flicks. He didn’t have a drop of blood on him. That didn’t matter, somehow. Those men had looked like living breathing beings. And, for some reason, they’d been intent on killing – him, or each other. Hadn’t seemed to matter. He hadn’t had much choice. He’d gone into an auto-pilot mode. Efficient. Deadly. Non-emotional. So, why did it feel so...?
Feel?
Damn it.
There was that word again. He needed to cease this. Facts had always been his forte. He’d had the following facts decided for years. They were immutable. Life was about one thing – achieving success. Feelings were fictitious. Frivolous. Emotions lacked any value.
So why did his chest hurt so? Why couldn’t he get a breath without a stab of acid-laced pain that made the earlier Holy Water akin to receiving a light snowfall? Why did it resemble a giant’s fist wrapped about his guts, continually wrapping them tight for fun? And just why was it so blasted difficult to keep his eyes clear?
Paul Henry whisked an arm across his eyes. Stared at the evidence on his forearm for a moment in disbelief. The sledge hammer effect hit his chest, a vise-like pressure squeezed both lungs, and the fist wrung another length of intestines into a hellish knot.
It’s not real, Paul Henry.
What is happening is psychological. It will pass.
He stiffened. Scowled. Glared out the windows. He must be tired. That was it. His eyes were weepy with exhaustion. He needed to ignore all of it. These sensations didn’t exist. Therefore, they could be banished. Shoved into a mental compartment. Locked away. Forgotten.
Dawn started lighting the landscape before him. That hurt even more. As if red hot pokers pushed against his eyeballs. Great. Sensitivity to sunlight was one ill-effect of half-turning. He’d just have to endure it. From the looks of things, he had clear skies for the flight east. Nothing but sun ahead.
And after that, his fut
ure.
Alone.
It had always been his destiny. Impersonal. Emotionally austere. Bereft of feelings. A vast span of luxurious emptiness.
What alternative is there, Paul Henry?
There were always options. He could join the vampires. Exist in the world of gray. Arise only to seek blood and then more blood. Kill without compunction. Prowl the nights like a scourge from hell—
Wait a minute.
That was his learned cognition speaking. The knowledge of vampires that he’d been taught, the information gleaned from the experts, the doctrine he’d been fed as if it was a banquet and he’d been starved. It sure wasn’t Eska.
Eska!
She appeared before him somehow, her image blocking burning rays from the rising sun. The sight of her sent a tide of joy flooding over him. Rinsed the ills with cooling salve. He blinked. Eska disappeared. Hot tears slid down his cheeks. Truly agonizing pain centered in his chest.
And that’s when he knew.
He loved her.
Oh, holy shit!
This was love, and he LOVED her!
Paul Henry took a huge breath. Watched incredulously as everything about his life went completely upside down. His plans for the future got nullified. Every fact was trumped. And everything he’d ever been taught became an open question.
He was in love!
As far as he was concerned, being in love sure sucked. It sent a giant left hook into him and sent him flying. Love was also the most wondrous sensation he’d ever experienced. So vast, it was almost impossible to quantify. Warmth and joy spread through him as he pondered it. Considered things from a different angle. Accepted new facts...this time based on feelings.
Eska had been right. It didn’t matter who she was, or what she’d done. All that mattered was getting back to her.
The sky filled with light. It sent flame-like pain through the glass. Heated the cockpit rapidly. Paul Henry fought to maintain control as he yanked the wheel, putting the plane into a steep 180-degree turn.
And then the world turned into a blast furnace.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
