Shattered Days (The Firsts Book 7)

by C. L. Quinn

  Koen surged to grab his granddaughter and hugged her close at the same moment Eillia reached for Caedmon.

  “Mama,” Caedmon cried and buried his face under his mother’s long hair, his arms tight around her neck. Eillia’s heart skipped beats because, while they weren’t out of danger yet, her son was back in her arms and she would never let him go again.

  Cairine on his hip, her legs curved around his waist, Koen kissed her face over and over until she giggled. He looked up at Ahmose.

  “Where’s my daughter?”

  “She went down when we rescued the children. I’m on my way back.”

  Ahmose turned to mount a potential rescue for the remaining members of their party when the doors slammed shut to the lab they occupied. He used his extremely powerful first blood magics to blast the door open, but it did not budge. After a second intense try, he looked at Koen.

  “How is he doing this? This should be impossible.”

  “He’s figured out some things about our nature that has made him capable of harming us. The priority here is his death.”

  “Agreed. Koen, aid me.”

  Eillia set Caedmon on Daniel’s lap and stood, pulling Cairine over to her.

  “Stay with Caed, sweetie,” she told her.

  Joining the other two first bloods, she stepped between them and took their hands.

  “Let’s take this place down,” she said, calmly.

  The two men at her side, a good ten to twelve inches taller than she, glanced at each other and then at the doorway.

  All three reached for their spirit amulets, which allowed them to channel the full strength of their power. The door never had a chance. As it blasted open, an army of men carrying state-of-the-art weaponry, hurried through, firing.

  The vampires raced to take cover, Daniel dove for the children, but they both moved away from him at a speed he did not think they could move.

  He was yelling to Eillia as he saw the his son and the little girl he thought of like a daughter, standing alone, hands held, looking above their heads. They were giggling.

  Daniel’s eyes lifted upward to see all of the men in Lamont’s army floating above him, rifles too, all of them trapped in columns of air.

  Eillia and Koen were behind the children now, Ahmose watching the floating army and the children alternately with an amazed smile.

  “Ummm, who’s doing that?” Daniel asked, his eyes locked on the floating men and artillery.

  Eillia’s eyes were locked on the giggling children.

  “I believe our son is, along with Koen’s precocious granddaughter. Koen, what do you think?”

  Koen shook his head, watching the children too.

  “I think the teenage years are going to be a bitch.”

  Tamesine groaned. Everything in her body hurt, including her earlobes and little toes. She’d been unconscious so much lately, her mind had become accustomed to it. But the physical pain was new.

  What the fuck had happened?

  The second she thought that, her mind snapped to one thing. The children...were they safe?

  A tickle trickled into her mind at that. Caedmon, giggling at her. Yeah, he was safe. Well and happy. He must be home.

  Trying to open her eyes, she saw a fuzzy face above her and felt a hand on her cheek. After a few blinks, her eyes focused and there, helping her to waken, was the child who had loved and protected her before he was born, Eillia and Daniel’s brilliant, precious baby boy, whom Tamesine knew was as much hers as theirs. The bond between this incredible first blood child and the less-than-sane woman she had been for centuries was indisputable and unbreakable. Whatever they were to each other, it was destined and sanctioned by the universe.

  “Hi, baby,” she said. He giggled again as he was pulled back into waiting arms. Eillia leaned over her now, the child burrowed into her side.

  “Sweetie, welcome back. How do you feel?”

  Her mouth was dry, she ached, literally, all over, and her memory was a little foggy.

  “Um, fine. I assume both of our children are here and okay? He didn’t hurt them?”

  “No. The children came through this terrible ordeal quite well. They lived up to our legacy.”

  “No one else was hurt?”

  “Not permanently, no. You got the worst of it, but I think Lamont had it out for you. I used compulsion on some of his doctors, and they said that he thought you were his golden girl, the one to change his life. When you refused, you became enemy number one.”

  “Did you get him?”

  Eillia was quiet before she said, softly, “No. But we will. Everyone is searching for him. You need to continue your recovery, so I’m going to leave you to rest. You are in your own room in France. I didn’t think you would be going back to California.”

  Tamesine couldn’t think. California? Yes, Frank’s Place, where she’d waitressed for the past two months. Oh, God, Frank…

  “Eillia, there was a man, in Tasmania…”

  “Frank. Yes, I know. We found him, locked in a compulsion by Lamont, when we found you. I questioned him and realized who he was. We sent him home, healed, and wiped. He remembers being sick for several days and has now returned to his work. He’s okay, Tamesine.”

  “Thank you. He’s a good man. He didn’t deserve what Claude and Lamont put him through.” She paused, her head quaking from all of the thoughts assaulting her now.

  “Where’s Marc?”

  “We’re looking for him now. He’s still missing. Claude has him, Tamesine.”

  Pushing upright suddenly, Tamesine tried to get out of the bed, but Eillia gently pressed her back.

  “No. Ahmose is on his way to L.A. to search for him and Lamont. He’s very motivated. With his own first blood son, and Starla pregnant again, he’s furious that Lamont was able to kidnap our children. He’s determined to get him and eliminate the threat. If we weren’t so concerned about another attempt, several of us would be with him right now, but Ahmose wouldn’t wait. Xavier is going to join him next week. But for now, you need to stay in bed. You need to find your natural sleep now that you’re awake, and see if you can find him in your dream again.”

  “You’re right. Yes, I will do that right now. Thank you, Eillia, for taking care of me.”

  Brushing the moist hair from Tamesine’s brow, Eillia smiled. “You’re family, sweetie. Of course we’ll take care of you. Always. Get some sleep, and if you find out anything about your friend, let me know and I’ll call Ahmose. Tamesine, you know how much it means to us that you found our children?”

  “I would give my life for either Caedmon or Cairine without hesitation.”

  “We know that. That’s one of the reasons we want you to know you always have a home here with us, no matter what.”

  Tamesine could feel moisture push up behind her eyes. “I appreciate that. I’ve never had a home. At least, not since my sister…”

  She couldn’t finish the statement. Too much pain behind the memory made it hard to say the words.

  Eillia’s natural empathic skills reached to calm Tamesine. “I understand. We’re going to help you through all of this. Sleep, my darling girl.”

  When Eillia bent over to kiss Tamesine’s cheek, Tamesine couldn’t completely hold back the tears and one slid down the same cheek.

  “’Night, sweetie,” Eillia said and hoisted Caedmon up higher to carry him from the room.

  With so much going through her mind now, pain and pleasure, worry for the past and future, Marc, Tamesine struggled to attain a sleep-state, but finally, she rolled over and her mind reached for the spirit world.

  When her dream world faded in, she stood, alone, looking at the ever-present stormy sky. Not for the first time, she wondered why it was always so stormy here, it wasn’t a world she herself had created. Since it was sent by the universe, it must mean something.

  Looking around, she searched for Marc. He wasn’t there. Her heart ached at the thought that he might be dead. With her connection to him, would
she have known? Would there be a rip in her spirit if he was gone?

  The dream-self dropped onto the cold sands and waited. He never appeared.

  When she woke sometime later, her body still sore and spent, she felt terrible hunger. Her need for food drove her from her comfortable bed. She looked down to see that Eillia, or someone, had put her in a satin nightgown. She was clean and smelled like jasmine. The care they had taken humbled her and let her know she couldn’t have been luckier in the world than for that unborn child to connect with her and love her. It wasn’t just the drive for food that sent her to her closet to dress quickly. She needed to hold Caedmon in her arms. Now.

  After she satisfied herself that all was well here, and got an enormous meal, she would see if Koen would let her take his jet back to California. Marc needed her, and she truly needed him.

  NINETEEN

  It was so dark, Marc could barely see his own hand held inches from his face. The pale color must have found some light somewhere, but not enough to have any clue where he was. This was almost complete sensory deprivation. It was dead silent, unless he himself made some noise, which he did occasionally. But his own voice sounded odd to him, unsettling, and he finally stopped.

  He had no idea how long he’d been here. All he knew was that he’d forced himself to sleep several times to seek Tam, and she hadn’t been there. He wondered, worried, if she was still alive. He wondered if he would ever know.

  The idea that she might be gone left a hole in his heart, bigger than the pain he’d carried since the war. Lying in the dark, nothing but memories and possible futures, lost chances, broken lives, pain, ran through his mind, teased and tortured him.

  Once a day they brought him a tray and some water in a thin plastic container. The food tasted bad, like it was spoiled, but he ate it anyway, since he knew it was all they would offer him.

  He hoped that the vampires would care enough to come for him, he thought they would.

  Once, pissed-off, frightened, bored, tired of all of it, he’d yelled out to his captor.

  “Just do it! Kill me! Get it over with, you bastard! Lived too long as it is anyway! You hear me? You’re just wasting bad meat and cheese on a corpse!”

  But no one had answered him.

  Exhausted, he tried to work out some, to keep his body fit enough to escape if the opportunity presented, but after managing a few sit-ups or push-ups, he usually collapsed on the cold floor, exhausted. Amazingly, sleep did not come easily, he’d had to fight to achieve that state of rest.

  When he did sleep, the old dreams had returned. The war. Death. His ugly life, displayed, live and unexpurgated. After two nights of those memories, he was serious when he asked Claude to take his life.

  Tonight, cold, hungry, because no one had showed up to give him even bad food, he tried desperately to avoid sleep and those dreams. Marc wiped the moisture from his eyes as he laid an arm across his forehead, letting his fingers tap the side of his head rhythmically to try to stay awake. He couldn’t face that last battle again.

  Sleep came anyway. But this time, he found himself in the storm-scape where he’d met Tamesine. His heart pounded.

  “Tam!” Marc searched three-hundred and sixty degrees around him. “Tam!”

  Fingers touched his bare arm and he whirled. She stood there, the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his life, and he lifted her into his arms, held her close, and said nothing. Neither did she, she just held tight, her legs wrapped around his, her body warm and snug against his side.

  His face buried in her hair, which smelled sweet, he asked her, “Are you all right? Are you free?”

  She pulled back and looked into his eyes. “I am. But I was injured. Killed, actually, although not forever.”

  Marc shook his head. “Not forever?”

  “No. Lamont shot me, and my body died. But a vampire can heal from most gunshot wounds. In that condition, I didn’t dream, so I couldn’t reach you. Since I woke, I’ve been waiting there for you. Marc, where are you?”

  “That guy that took you, that asshole, Claude, he has me in a basement, or dungeon, somewhere dark, wet, and cold. I have no idea where it is. I assume I’m somewhere in the lab that SRS has in California.”

  “I’m on my way there now. Koen loaned me his jet and I should be there soon. We already have a vampire in the area looking for Lamont and his aides. Marc, don’t antagonize them. They both have God complexes and flash-point tempers. Just survive until we can get you out safely.”

  “I’ll try. I’m kind of a natural smart-ass, you know.”

  Tamesine smiled and twisted her fingers through his hair. “I know. Be good, though. I find I really miss having you inside of me.”

  “Remind me of that when you’re actually in front of me again.”

  “I won’t forget.”

  Marc let Tam’s dream-body slide down his.

  “Soon, Marc.”

  He stood alone watching the violent sky before he was jerked from the dream. His eyes shot wide to the blackness of his prison. She was all right and she was coming for him, so nothing else mattered.

  Lamont had arrived the night before, in a nasty mood, and took it out on everyone except Claude. He’d called for Claude, and when he arrived in his office on the fourth floor of the warehouse, he had a smile for him.

  “Claude, I concede. You are perfectly suited for this work in every way. Your foresight, your attention to detail, your knowledge, all make you a perfect partner. I know you’ve been unhappy with many of your recent assignments. You’ve thought them beneath your skills, and you’re correct. So I am naming you my right-hand man. You are the equivalent of the Hand of the King, me being, of course, said king.”

  Claude could live with that. He grinned and took Lamont’s outstretched hand. They shook on the promotion, and Claude stepped back.

  “You know I won’t let you down. How did it go in Australia?”

  “Wrong. Dead wrong, but it often does since our enemy is so powerful. It won’t always go their way, though. I took the kids, as you know, and they came for them, as I expected would probably happen. I’m not sure what went wrong in the end. I had most of them trapped in one room, sent in a massive force to take them down, and, waiting in the corridor, four axmen to take their heads. I want those children, and I should have them. The parents ought to be dead now, permanently, but somehow they got out of my trap. We’ll meet again, I’m sure of it. I still plan to get the baby vampires.”

  “Let me know what I can do.”

  “You will be on the front lines, so stay near.”

  “I will. I have the boyfriend in the basement. Your vampire lady, I have the guy she was fucking in chains. What do you want me to do with him?”

  “Ah. Fine, very fine. He’ll be bait, at some point. Keep him alive. Bring him with us.”

  “Yes, sir,” Claude responded, bowed and walked out.

  Bowed? What the fuck? Claude grinned. It was that Hand of the King comment. He kind of liked it. Brave knight shit, and all. He could see himself sitting at a round table with a shiny sword at his side.

  Claude exited the SRS facility in L.A. just as the sun exited the sky, a sliver of pink still fading into black near the skyline. He used his remote to unlock his car, a Mercedes SUV, compliments of the SRS, the chirp music to his ears.

  He lifted his eyes as he caught movement across the street, under the edge of another warehouse. He couldn’t really see anything, anyone, but his instincts told him it was unlikely anyone should be there this late in the evening. More important, his instincts told him that someone was waiting for the sun to disappear, and that meant vampire.

  He continued casually to his car, and once inside, dialed Lamont.

  “You may be under attack shortly. I suggest you get out of there,” Claude said when Lamont answered.

  “Fuck! They’re here?”

  “I believe so. I’m taking off, I suggest you do, too. Live to fight another day, right, my liege?”

 
“Absolutely. We’ll meet in London.”

  Ending the call, Claude started the car and left quickly. Yep. Live to fight another day was not a cowardly act, but prudence. That’s how an assassin of his caliber had lived and worked for twenty years without detection.

  Once he hit the highway, he pushed the car to its maximum speed and headed to L.A.X.

  Ahmose entered the L.A. lab facility of Lamont’s SRS. He was alone, but he didn’t give a fuck. He had one goal.

  Find Lamont, kill him quickly, and go home. As a child of the moon, he knew his power exceeded nearly any other vampire, and he was confident he could move undetected through the facility. He thought, in fact, that might have been where they’d failed before. Too many vampires at once would have been met by the armies, but in stealth mode, he knew he could be in and out before anyone even knew he was there.

  It was going perfectly. He found an attractive young woman, compelled her to tell him where he could find Lamont, and ended up in the office in seconds. It was empty. But a hot cup of coffee on the desk told him that the man had been there, and likely moments before Ahmose’s arrival. How did these men stay ahead of the vampires?

  Ahmose knew one reason. The vampires had lived uninterrupted lives for centuries, some for millennia, and they were not accustomed to strategic thinking. These men were. No matter how hard he tried, though, he couldn’t locate the man in the building. Lamont was gone.

  Back on the first floor, Ahmose took a moment to look at his cell phone, and noticed a call from Eillia.

  “Ahmose,” she said. “Tamesine is on her way there. She thinks that Marc might be imprisoned in the basement of that building. If you make it inside, perhaps you will look for him before you go. Be well.”

  Ah, another rescue. He found a door leading down and moved using hyper-speed into a barely lit, sub-ground area. Water leaked from above and the smell was musty enough to make him wrinkle his nose. It was an odor he deplored.

  A door near the back of the concrete basement certainly led to something. In this nasty space, the high-tech shiny new lock stood out.