On Gillian’s end, she had a high-ground vantage point and weapons, and she wasn’t the least bit sleepy with all the adrenaline coursing through her system. Inexplicably, she didn’t feel terribly afraid for her own safety. She was already resolved to the fact that she may not live through tonight. What worried her was that one of her friends or Aleksei might get hurt or die.
Aleksei. This was her proverbial last stand and she was taking stock. Did she love him? No! Her mental bitch kicked her in the spleen. Well . . . yeah. Yes, she did. Helluva time to realize that. Too bad she couldn’t tell him. The problem was, did she want to tell him? Hell no.
And why not? Why didn’t she want him to know? Because it would tie him to her more than he already was? He loved her; that was the truth. He’d proven it, come through for her and stood by her every step of the way. He’d respected her boundaries, her quirks, the more questionable aspects of her job, with only a minor digression into Fanged Fossil World . . . and he had apologized. Not just with words but with his actions.
One thing Gillian knew for certain was that in any relationship—friend, foe, lover or patient—it was more important to pay attention to what someone did rather than to listen to what they said. Aleksei said he loved her, but he had gone beyond that and shown her, time after time.
Now . . . carefully . . . without scaring the absolute shit out of herself, she slowly opened the one remaining door of denial in her own mind. Aleksei. Did she want him and everything he had represented and promised? Yeah. She did. She wanted to stay with him and see where this all would wind up. It really was that simple.
A deep, shuddering exhalation of breath was the only outward sign that she’d come to a decision. Immediately she noticed a release of tension that she didn’t realize she’d been harboring. Was this how love was supposed to feel? It didn’t seem to hurt or make her panicky, she realized with a jolt.
How did she feel? Giddy and stupid? Nope. Sort of relaxed, calm and at peace? More like . . . secure. Like a homecoming. Home was with Aleksei, wherever they were together. It felt good. It felt right. It felt safe. Too bad she was probably going to die before she could tell him.
CHAPTER 9
GILLIAN snapped out of her daydreams to notice the shadows around the obelisks were longer. What time was it? She checked her phone and was amazed to find it was late in the afternoon. Four fifteen. Where the hell had the time gone? Had she been sitting there lost in her thoughts, mooning about life with Aleksei and musing the day away? Apparently she had.
Great Ganesh, if she was that inattentive, she was lucky to still be in one piece with all the unfriendly bodies in close proximity to her rock. Mentally shaking herself, she stretched, stood up, then stretched some more. She was used to long, involved stakeouts and sniper’s nests, so enforced inactivity wasn’t something new. The fact that she was out of practice was a problem. She felt stiff, thirsty and a little nauseated. Probably would have been a good idea to escape the plane with a bottle of water and a sandwich instead of just guns.
Dehydration was a real dilemma. She’d been sitting outside for hours. Even though she’d been inactive and it was a lower level of heat this time of year, her body was still being leeched of moisture. When the sun fell it would become chilly. The desert was a contrast of environments and temperatures. It might be blazing hot during the day, then cold at night. Since it was winter, the days were already cooler. Eight hours in the heat of an Egyptian summer with no water or shade would have given her heat stroke. Her body wasn’t used to the hard life of a Marine officer anymore. Bummer.
She called out toward the plane: “Bausch! If you want to be helpful, I could use some bottled water and a granola bar!”
To her surprise, Bausch appeared in the open doorway of the plane and waved, then disappeared again. She hadn’t really expected an answer to her request, so it was nice to know they were being attentive. Right.
A few minutes later Bausch, minus her helmet, clambered down the gangway and headed toward Gillian’s rock. She wasn’t armed, from what Gill could see, but was carrying several water bottles and a satchel.
“Here, I brought you some food and your water.”
“Thank you. Just toss it up, please.”
Bausch obeyed, throwing the satchel up first, then the four individual liters of water. “You really shouldn’t be outside without a hat or some shade, Dr. Key. Even with the clouds, the sun out here is strong. If you hadn’t called out, I was going to check on you soon anyway.”
“I’m fine, thanks,” Gillian replied, rummaging in the satchel. There was a sandwich, the granola bar, a pear, a container of strawberries, aloe vera gel and a brownie.
“What’s all this?” She stared down at Bausch suspiciously.
“You need to eat and drink. Don’t worry; it’s not poisoned or drugged. We’re under orders to keep you alive and well, remember?” Bausch tossed her a glare, then walked back to the plane.
Gillian took a moment and weighed the possibilities. She hadn’t felt any duplicity from Bausch, and she was really hungry. The hell with it. Why bring her out in the middle of literal bumfuck Egypt, then poison her? It didn’t make sense. Besides, the food smelled good and the water bottles were commercial brands with the seals intact.
She cracked open the seal on one of the liters of water immediately, drained the bottle, then sat back down to enjoy the sandwich. After she demolished the sandwich, the strawberries and another bottle of water and began munching on the pear, she felt more like herself. Eyeing the brownie, she felt a jolt of queasiness. Normally she considered chocolate a separate food group, but today wasn’t one of those days. She’d save it for later. If there was a later.
The sun was starting its early winter descent toward the horizon and the temperature was dropping. Gillian slathered the aloe vera gel over her face, neck and hands. It was for post-sun-exposure and she figured she might have a slight burn.
Aleksei would be waking soon; but then, so would Vlad. Older Vampires could stand everything but the direct glare of the sun, depending on the time of year and weather conditions. They could be up and around in the early morning and early evening if they wanted to, and could remain conscious longer during winter weather or heavy storms when clouds dissipated the intense golden rays.
A familiar uncomfortable feeling interrupted her thoughts. Two liters of water and now she had to pee. Fabulous. That would mean going back into the plane. There was no way she was hiding behind a rock and dropping trou out here with all the wandering people around. She shrugged on the rifle, tucked the guns back in her pants and yelled at the plane again. “Bausch! I’m coming back into the plane for a minute. Make sure you and those pilots are well away from the door.”
Kimber, Helmut and Pavel were seeing to the unloading of Osiris’s plane. Daed was off commandeering a vehicle large enough to move the Vampire’s containers, the Lions, the Wolves and the Cheetahs to where they were headed. Trocar was off God knew where, probably stocking up on Grael assassin articles. Gill had thoughtfully left her phone on, so whatever transportation Daed came up with needed a GPS system in it.
The noise of a rotor blade in the distance grew louder. Kimber looked up to see a helicopter headed toward their vicinity. From what she could tell it looked like a Huey but it wasn’t a Slick. Gun turrets and missile launchers bristled from the front. Apparently someone was expecting trouble. Great. This was just getting better and better.
Cezar, the Alpha Wolf, piled out of the airplane with a dozen of his handpicked Wolves. Aleksei had insisted he stay at the castle since Pavel was already coming, but Cezar had vetoed that idea, saying that Gillian was his friend too and he’d be damned if he was staying back home minding the store while everyone else was rescuing her. Aleksei rather suspected that Cezar’s admiration was at least partly due to Gillian calling him an “overgrown Rottweiler” to his face shortly after they’d met. No matter; Cezar had decided and that was that.
Gill managed to get in the plane, to the head
and back out again without incident. Bausch wisely stayed back, her hands in full view. Both pilots were nursing their injuries and greeted her with frightened eyes and empty holsters. Part of her felt a little remorse for kicking the shit out of them, but she dismissed it. This had been a hostage situation and she had simply freed the hostage.
Growing bolder since no one was actually challenging her, she kept the rifle in her hands and walked a perimeter around the plane and most of the crowd. Since she was assuming that the majority of the gathering wasn’t on her and Aleksei’s side, she had to admit it was an awfully peaceful assembly.
Other than assorted whispers and glares from the folks who could actually see where she was, no one was aggressive on any level. That fact concerned her more than comforted her. Yeah, she was supposed to be untouched and kept safe, but she was expecting some sort of indirect hostility at least. All she was picking up from her empathy was tension and a deep, underlying fear that was definitely not directed at her.
If they were really that afraid of repercussions from Vlad, she had seriously underestimated his power, his authority and the genuine depth of his psychosis. Jack had been a prime example of a powerful underling with a personal agenda; surely someone in this mob had it in for her just on principle. Then again, Jack was dead and she was still very much alive, and if that wasn’t a glaringly obvious indicator of her importance to Vlad’s plan of the moment, she didn’t know what was.
Frowning, she circled back to the plane. None of this felt right or natural. That thought unsettled her as well. Since her total immersion into Fangland, few things struck her as odd or unnatural anymore. This did, and that in itself was scary as hell.
The sun dipped farther and the haze created by the lowered rays and swirls of dust darkened the landscape. Gripping the rifle more firmly, she edged closer to the gangway of the plane. Her senses were tingling in a very bad way. It was like being catapulted into the ocean, knowing without a doubt that there were great white sharks swimming beneath you in the water but being powerless to stop going in the direction you were headed. Something was there, but she couldn’t pinpoint it yet.
“Good evening, Dr. Key.”
An unknown dulcet female voice, lightly accented with Hungarian, sounded at the top of the stairs. Shit. Now what?
Gill flinched at the greeting, slowly turning to look up. A Vampire stood framed in the doorway of the plane in all her glory. Glory was not an exaggeration in this case. Gillian had never seen anyone so strikingly beautiful who wasn’t an Elf, except Dracula himself.
Long chestnut hair was artfully arranged in rich waves, framing a delicate porcelain face. The eyes that were leveled on Gillian were the color of amber overlaid with gold leaf and framed by dark, thick lashes. Her mouth was a perfect, plump cupid’s bow, graced by the same delicate shell pink on her cheeks.
She wore an extraordinary clinging, midnight blue velvet cocktail dress and matching skimmers, showing off her slender curves and décolletage to perfection. The vision of loveliness rendered Gillian completely incapable of speaking for a moment, but she recovered swiftly.
“You are?”
“Erzsébet Báthory.”
Oh, that was just fucking lovely. The infamous Blood Countess, and here she was, impersonating a virgin. What next?
The woman descended the stairs and extended a hand to Gillian. “Vlad has told me so much about you.”
“I’m thrilled.”
Nevertheless, she took the proffered hand and shook it briefly. The Vampire’s hand was warm and dry to the touch; her grip brief and polite. She wasn’t much taller than Gillian, but was a good bit more slender. Gillian didn’t even think of assaulting her as she had the pilots and the unfortunate Lieutenant Bausch. This woman could rip Gillian’s head off with no effort whatsoever, despite looking like a soft cream puff in comparison to Gill’s Marine Corps muscles.
Erzsébet wasn’t registering as a normal Vampire on Gillian’s radar. Her power was contained but still swirling around them both. She felt . . . beyond Master level, more like Vlad when he wasn’t covering his true nature up. More like . . . Aleksei or Osiris. Shit, shit, shit. She was another Lord.
“I can see it in your eyes, Dr. Key. You are surprised to find another Vampire with a Lord’s level of power which was unknown to your friends.”
“Well . . . yes, it is a little bit of a shock.” That was an understatement. There was no point in denying it; Countess Báthory would have known she was lying before she’d formed the words.
Sweet, bubbling laughter came from those perfect lips. “I think you and your profession have been somewhat misinformed about the more highly evolved of our species.”
“I think you are absolutely right.” Gillian smiled wryly. Again, no point in denying the obvious. She was going to track down and kill the author of Using Your Empathy to Your Advantage when she got back home. Sometimes it really was better not to know things.
“Um . . . I assume you are here to help Vlad with whatever it is we’re going to do?” Lame, Gillian. Very lame.
Cold steel with a very sharp edge was abruptly placed against the side of her throat, and a slender, powerful arm snaked around her chest. Gillian had an intense moment of absolute flashback panic, thinking Jack had somehow found her again. Then she remembered that Jack was dead and it couldn’t possibly be him pressing a knife or scalpel against her carotid artery.
“Oh, you’ll help us, all right, love. You will indeed.” The voice was midrange, lower-class British. Not quite Cockney, but almost. Jack’s voice had definitely been upper-crust. No clue there.
“Stop it, Sweeney. Let her go. You are supposed to help me keep an eye on her and keep her safe. We are all behaving with civility for Lord Dracula’s benefit.” Erzsébet waved her hand in a dismissive gesture, but her eyes drilled holes in the person behind Gillian.
“Very well. If you insist,” the deceptively soft tenor voice said as the blade was removed from her throat area.
He moved around in front of Gillian and kissed Erzsébet’s hand. Another Vampire, naturally, but without even a Master’s level of power. The son of a bitch shouldn’t have been able to sneak up on her. Of course, she and her screaming empathy had been completely distracted by Erzsébet’s beauty . . . At least that was what Gill was telling herself.
This was a very bad time to allow her mind to wander for any reason. She had definitely lost her edge for field work. That inexplicably irritated her more than anything else.
The male turned toward Gillian. “Sweeney Todd, miss . . . I am told that I am at your service.”
“Er . . . nice to meet you?” Gillian wanted to bang her head on the side of the plane, but she took his hand in a faux friendship greeting.
“Pleasure is all mine, pigeon.”
Sweeney Todd evidently wasn’t a made-up story after all. Note to self: don’t believe for a moment when someone tells you a legend really is not based in fact. Lies. All of it.
He flashed sharp, small white teeth at her, dramatically bowing at the waist and snapping shut the straight-edged razor he’d held at her throat. His hair was tousled, black and wavy, but streaked liberally with gray. Gillian noticed right away that he looked more disheveled than any Vampire she knew on a personal level. His clothing was rumpled and his fingernails were bitten back and dirty. There were dark circles around his equally dark eyes. He looked more like a drunk recovering from a weeklong bender than a preternatural Being with virally enhanced powers.
“Now what? Do we just wait here for Vlad or are you going to tell me what exactly is going on?”
Gillian slung the rifle over her shoulder and straightened to her full height. Since no one had attempted to kill her yet, or even shown any threat—well, except for Sweeney, but he was obviously off his nut—there was no point in false bravado or waving guns around.
“All I can do is confirm what you already know, Gillian.” Erzsébet smiled. “Lord Dracula has the same plan he has had all along. The ascension of
the Vampire to the pinnacle of influence. After this night, Humans, the Fey, the Elves—everyone will answer to us.”
“I’m not sure how he plans to accomplish that.” Gillian swept her arm around, indicating the nearby crowd. “There aren’t enough people here, or enough Vampires on his side, for that matter, to stage a literal world takeover.”
“I can only tell you what he has shared with me,” Erzsébet said. “He is more calculating and meticulous than anyone gives him credit for.”
“Why hasn’t anyone tried to attack or kill me?” Gill said, with a pointed glance at Sweeney, who had the grace to drop his eyes and actually blush.
“Because you were not to be harmed, for any reason.”
“So says Vlad?”
“So says Lord Dracula.”
Great Ganesh, were any of Vlad’s affiliates capable of giving a completely straight answer? Apparently not. She’d have to wait until he deigned to make an appearance to ask him.
It would also be nice to have some inkling of when her rescue party was planning on showing up. The thought slipped out before she could stop it. “Aleksei, where the hell are you?”
“Nearby, piccola.” His deep, velvet baritone rumbled through her mind, stirring her senses. The unexpected response nearly made her jump out of her skin. Years of schooling her responses and her face kept all suspicion away from the two Vampires who stood less than three feet from her.
“Sorry for breaking mental radio silence, but you guys need to get here now.”
He chuckled, sending her warmth and the sensation of his arms enfolding her. “Very soon, cara. We will defeat this monster together. All of us.”
The brief contact was cut and Gill was alone again in her own head. It was enough to reassure her and confirmed that just hearing his voice and feeling his love for her made a huge difference in her outlook on the immediate future. She was damn well going to live through this and start enjoying her relationship for a change.
Key to Justice Page 13
