Department 57: Rubies of Fire

by Lynne Connolly

  George frowned. “Much as I hate to admit it, you can sense her better than we can. We’ll work as a team. We’ll take you to the places we know, the Gardiner hideouts, and you try to scent her. If we take turns to flash, we should make it.” Every vampire family had hideouts, secret places, left from the old days when vampires were persecuted. Some had never gotten out of the habit of making out-of-the-way places where they could safely gather.

  “Sounds like a plan.” Andreas rubbed his head. “Actually I can take the brunt of it. I’m one of those weirdos who can flash without a lot of effort.”

  Marshall let out a long sigh. “Well, that should make it a lot fucking easier.”

  Moving closer, they took hold of one another’s hands, needing the physical contact to flash. With their minds linked, Andreas saw where they were going and then felt the familiar whirring as they shifted.

  They moved as quickly as they could, urgency a fever in them all, and as the night went on, their desperation increased. They would find them, or someone would.

  Whatever they did, Don and Nancy had doomed themselves. If Andreas and his companions didn’t find them in time, it wouldn’t matter much to him. He didn’t care what happened to Don and Nancy; the only person in his mind was Roz. Roz stroking his skin, kissing him, loving him, joking with him. The only woman, Talent or mortal, who had come anywhere near stealing his heart. And Roz never did anything by halves. When she died, he doubted there’d be much left of him.

  Andreas didn’t ask where they’d gone, but mostly they arrived in open spaces near buildings. In some places sunset had just fallen, and in others, they arrived a few hours after. Like most vampires, Andreas could always assess the arrival of sunrise, and so he could assess roughly where in the country they’d arrived. And of course, while he could flash to a place where the sun had risen, he couldn’t flash away again.

  They had no luck at the first three places. Not a sniff or a sense of anyone. While Andreas concentrated on Roz, the other two sensed Nancy and Don, trying to find her sigil, any pattern. They still couldn’t be entirely sure they would find them together.

  At the third destination, Andreas paused, holding up one hand. “No, I can’t find her here, but let’s think about this logically. They’re an hour or so ahead of us, so they can’t be anywhere sunset has only just happened because they can’t move on. We can cut those out. They can’t be too far because they’re flying, not flashing. If they do flash, Nancy will be tired. She’ll need to rest. And she can only do it once if she’s like most vampires.”

  George slapped his open palm to his forehead. “Why didn’t I think of that? That cuts the search right down.”

  “Cristos is taking care of the New York end. He’s quartered the city, got every available Talent combing the place.”

  George grunted. “I want to find them. I want the pleasure of seeing their faces when we arrive.”

  “But not kill them.”

  “Oh no, not yet.” His smile told Andreas more than he wanted to know about the manner of their punishment. “Anyone kills a Gardiner unlawfully, even if it’s another Gardiner, they die.”

  That made a lot of sense. At least he thought it did, but if it meant the two Gardiners were on his side, Andreas was all for it.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Roz blinked and came awake, aware of only two things. It was dark, and her head hurt, although “hurt” didn’t come close to the pain she felt when she turned it to find out where she was.

  Alone, in a room that smelled unfamiliar, and she couldn’t move freely. Not where she expected to be, not in any condition to fight. When she moved, something rattled. She tried to rub her eyes, hoping her night vision would kick in soon. A jerk on her wrist told her they had restrained her. She moved one foot and heard another jingle. Handcuffs or manacles, then.

  Exerting her strength, she pulled hard to free herself from the restraints, but a searing pain shot through her arms straight to her heart, and she cried out from the shock of it.

  “Don’t.”

  She wasn’t alone. The single word clued her in to the speaker, and her heart pounded with relief. “Nancy! Let me out of this, will you? Or have they got you too?”

  A long pause. Had Nancy passed out, or was she thinking?

  Her eyes had become accustomed to the near darkness. Although she had the vampire’s enhanced night vision, she needed some light to go on, and all she could see was the thin beam coming in the side of a door or window. It raked over an upright form. Nancy. “What are you waiting for?”

  “What do you remember?”

  Impatiently Roz rattled the manacles against the metal of the bed. “Why does that matter? Let me out of these things! My head hurts.”

  “They’re silver.”

  Roz groaned. Both she and Nancy—almost all Gardiners—had a sensitivity to silver. She never wore silver jewelry because it gave her a rash. Whoever had taken them knew that. The worst part was that silver weakened her, removed the extra strength she gained after nightfall. Not all vampires had the same sensitivity, so that meant whoever took them knew what they were. “Do you know what they want?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is there anything you can do to get me out of these manacles? I know you’re as sensitive as I am, but isn’t there a weapon, something you could use?” She quelled the rising tide of panic building inside her. If one of the laboratories had her, they wouldn’t be happy with her death. They’d kill her slowly, experiment on her until she’d given up all her secrets, but she couldn’t help them. She was what she was, and they wanted the essence of that, not Roz herself.

  When she tried to contact someone, anyone, mentally, she hit a hard wall, a barrier blocking her from the outside world. The silver again. She couldn’t even connect with Nancy. Either that, or Nancy was keeping her defenses up. “Is there somebody listening to us?” she whispered, afraid to give away too much.

  “Only me.”

  Nancy sounded unnaturally calm. Had they drugged her? Was that why Nancy didn’t try to help her?

  Roz injected a harder tone into her voice. “Nancy, get over here. See what you can do to get me out of these damned manacles.”

  “I’ll get you out. I need to find out if you’re okay.”

  “Except for a sore head, I’m fine. And that’s healing pretty fast. Someone knocked us out, didn’t they?”

  A shred of a smile echoed in her mind. “Yes, someone did.”

  Irritation that could easily grow into anger hit her. “Quit playing fucking games, Nancy. What’s happening here? What’s all this about?”

  The door opened, and a silhouette stood in the doorway. The bright light behind the figure blinded her for a moment, but Roz knew the shape. Don. No longer relieved by the presence of two people she thought she knew so well, Roz felt her stomach tighten. “Tell me,” she said, her voice as low as a whisper. “I deserve to know.”

  “She does,” Don said, solemn and still. He’d always had so much laughter and good humor, but none of it was apparent. “Tell her, Nancy. Then let’s get this over with.”

  Apprehension grew, tightening her senses but not helping her strength. Of course Nancy knew about the silver, but she’d bet it didn’t affect Don. He must have snapped the manacles into place.

  In this situation, Don represented the bigger danger. The mortal, weaker than either of them, but he had the immunity to silver. Her agent’s training clicked in to try to help her. She had no idea where they’d taken her, and she couldn’t call for help. She could only hope someone missed her and started to look for her. But no one would, unless someone in New York contacted the family and they realized the three of them had gone missing.

  She couldn’t depend on anyone except herself. So what was new in that? Her mouth twisted in a cynical smile. It always came down to that.

  “What are you smiling at?” Nancy, sharper than Roz usually heard her.

  “Just wondering what story you’ll cook up to explain all this.”<
br />
  “How do you know what we’ve got planned?”

  Roz caught her breath so Nancy wouldn’t hear her gasp. Then it was true, the suspicion forming tentatively in her mind. “Are you completely insane? You can’t do this and have a hope of getting away with it.”

  “We have to.” A note of despair crept into Nancy’s voice, and by the light from the room behind them Roz could make out the bleakness in her eyes. “I don’t want to do this, Roz, but it’s the only way. I can’t let Don die after a mortal lifespan. I just can’t.”

  “And how about yourself? Can you live with what you’re doing? You know I wouldn’t do this, not for Don. I like him, but this is going way beyond friendship. Liked,” she corrected herself. She forced her mind to work, fighting back the throbbing pain in her head to try to get to reason. Without her vampire strength, all she had was that. “You’ll have to use compulsion to make me do it, and you know I’ll fight that. Are you stronger than me?” Yes, her mind told her. Nancy had stronger mental powers. “How many men have you lived past, Nancy?”

  “Too many.”

  She ignored the despair in the other vampire’s voice. She must not feel sorry for Nancy. “Why didn’t you restrict yourself to vampire men once you got hurt one too many times?” For her, John had proved enough. She didn’t want to feel like that again. But to her knowledge, Nancy had suffered through that experience three times at least. Falling in love, marrying, living on—too much, too hard to bear.

  But she’d made the choice.

  “There’s something about mortals,” Nancy continued sadly. “I can’t resist them. Vampires just don’t do it for me.”

  Realization hit Roz. “You like to be in control.” She kept her voice calm and steady, just as if they sat in their apartment, discussing this like rational beings. “You like the superiority of the vampire/mortal relationship, so you’ve picked needy mortals, not the strong types. My John was strong. He coped. Your husbands couldn’t.”

  When Don flinched, she knew she’d found a fruitful line to follow. “Does Don mind that you’ve loved before, been married before?”

  Don opened his mouth to speak, but Nancy got there first. “No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t mind in the least. And he’s it for me. The end of the road. He’s what I want forever.”

  “But even if you convert him, he’ll always be younger than you, always be that much weaker, won’t he?”

  Not necessarily. A vampire’s powers often increased with age, but with practice and study, a young vampire could achieve awesome powers. She thought of Andreas, stronger than any of them by day and nearly as strong by night. Another five years or so and he’d become anyone’s equal. Better. A pang shot through her. Would she ever see him again? She prayed he wouldn’t be the one to find her dead body.

  “We’ll cope.”

  She felt Nancy’s mind in hers, examining it clinically. “The head’s almost better. I didn’t want Don to feel that pain, but it should be fine.” She stepped back to stand at Don’s side.

  Roz gritted her teeth and threw Nancy out of her mind, shoving with such force she heard Nancy’s whimper as she slammed the door shut. Almost immediately, Nancy returned. “Not this time, Roz. This time I win. Open up.”

  Don leaned forward, and Roz saw the small key dangling in his hand, teasing her with its nearness. Then a searing pain seized her as he took her hand and bent her little finger down. Down and down until the dull snap and the shard of agony told her it had broken.

  The physical pain proved enough to let Nancy in, back into Roz’s mind, forcing it open, heading straight for the center, where compulsion was easier to use.

  She fought and fought, ignoring the pain of her broken finger—two broken fingers, and only heard Nancy’s order of “Enough! I have her!” forcing Don to stop. Through the fog of pain, the frantic fighting, she felt Don’s satisfaction.

  Roz gritted her teeth but felt herself going under, like a patient on an operating table.

  “You can take the cuffs off her, darling,” she heard Nancy say, as though at a great distance or over a bad telephone line. Sparks crackled through her head as she brought every psi sense she had into play, but nothing was enough. If Nancy hadn’t known her as well as she did, Roz might have had a chance, but Nancy knew every pressure point, every weakness she had. Even Andreas.

  She kept her last self-determined thought for him. “Don’t be sorry. Avenge me and move on. I love you, Andreas Constant.” She had no sigil for him, so she used his CIA number, sending the last thought out into the night.

  She could do no more. He might pick up the thought she sent into the ether; he might not. She had done all she could. As she sank into the control of someone else, her every thought dictated by Nancy, she couldn’t help but feel thankful for the two men who had meant the most to her and were so different. John and Andreas.

  “I heard her!” Andreas paused in the act of taking the hands of George and Marshall for yet another flash to another place.

  “I felt something,” George said, cocking his head to one side. “It’s from somewhere near here, but I don’t know if it was Roz. It could be another vampire.”

  “No.” Andreas brought up a mental picture. “See that? It’s my CIA agent number.”

  Marshall growled low in his throat. “You have no family, no sigil, so she couldn’t use that.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  They dropped hands and took a closer look around. This was a small community in Virginia, a respectable place, family sedans and SUVs in front of comfortable houses, not too far apart, not too close together. “I wouldn’t have thought they’d bring her somewhere like this.”

  George stared around him, head high, as though he were a pointer dog trying to sniff out prey. “Perhaps they had no choice. They know we can trace almost anywhere they’ve been if we arrive quick. Just not track them, the fuckers. This was a hunch, something I felt while we were on the way someplace else.”

  “You’ve been here before?” Marshall asked sharply.

  “Once, a while back. I had a woman here.”

  “Where?” Both Andreas and Marshall snarled the question.

  George’s attention sharpened, and he held up one hand, closing his eyes. “One fourteen Bedford Avenue,” he murmured, as though he looked far, far back in time. “It didn’t last long; Joan’s husband was missing, presumed dead, in the Gulf War, but he came back. I bought them a house, I felt so guilty, and she’d been good company for a time. While I was screwing her, her husband was choking on sand.” He shook his head, clearly disgusted with himself.

  “Which way?”

  They’d felt nothing else after that first, sharp pang of recognition.

  George led the way, striding quickly toward a small street. “Joan knew about the affair, but so did several others. I didn’t think, didn’t connect.” He paused, glanced back. “Joan’s husband was military. They never stayed in one place very long, but I told them to keep the house, rent it out until they were ready to move back. Her husband’s a general now. Probably never comes here from one end of the year to the other. They can afford something a bit fancier these days.” His long stride quickened, but the other two had no difficulty keeping up with him.

  He stopped before a pleasant-looking house, well kept but with none of the personal touches that showed signs of a family in residence. Neatly barbered lawn, a garden swing, a clean, white paint finish with a blue front door. “This is the place.”

  “Do we go in like gunfighters at noon or take a quiet look first?” Marshall asked.

  George gave him an exasperated stare. “Take a quiet look, stupid. You want to wake the whole neighborhood?”

  Marshall shrugged. “I don’t care. Whichever is the fastest way.”

  Andreas took control. “This is my field. I’ll pick the locks. That burglar alarm isn’t on. Either that or the light has died.” He clicked his tongue between his teeth. “It would have slowed us down just that little bit. Stupid, but I’m gla
d of it. C’mon, let’s go. I’ll open the door and lead the way. Marshall, you scan for mortals. George, scan for vamps and Talents.” Mortals and Talents operated in different ways. It would be more efficient to do it separately.

  Marshall pushed his long hair behind his ears. “What are you going to do?”

  Andreas snicked off the safety catch on his GLOCK. “Take care of business.” He flashed a mirthless grin. “It’s what I do best.”

  He was good with a lock, even if he did say so himself. Shoving the roll of slender instruments back in his pocket, he stepped back to let George and Marshall in the house before stepping noiselessly through the dark hallway to the stairs. The delay helped his night vision, and he could see perfectly. Doors to the right and left, stairs ahead. Marshall held up one finger. So did George. Two presences, one human, one vampire. Andreas’s heart sank. There should be three. Two vamps, one human.

  As he watched, Marshall closed his fist. No humans, and George extended another finger. Two vampires.

  Something more than terror clutched Andreas close. Oh no, no, this wasn’t going to happen. Revenge could never satisfy him. He wanted Roz back, and he wanted her alive.

  The three exploded into action. George leaped up the stairs, taking them three at a time. If the staircase had been broad enough, the other two would have raced neck and neck with him.

  By the time Andreas reached the top of the stairs, George had begun kicking hard against a door at the top. He burst through on the first well-placed kick, and Marshall and Andreas surged in behind him.

  Like practiced agents, they spread out, George and Marshall taking either side, Andreas the center. As though they’d worked together before. None needed the lights.

  The smell of blood overwhelmed Andreas, but under it all, he got the faint scent of woman. His woman. The echoes of another woman’s screech echoed off the walls, but he ignored it and the woman it belonged to. The other two could take care of Nancy.

  The two figures on the bed could almost be engaged in sex, but they remained fully dressed. Don lay half on top of Roz, his head buried in her neck. Roz stared straight up from half-focused, heavy-lidded eyes. But ecstasy hadn’t caused that slumberous look. Roz was dying.