Crusader (MPRD Book 2)

by Andrew Chapman

  The lightning flashed again, showing the figure out on the balcony.

  “On three,” I whispered once the thunder had faded. “One.”

  Marie reached out for the curtain.

  “Two.”

  I steadied my aim, my sights fixed over the spot where the figure had been.

  “Three!”

  Marie whipped the curtain aside and I tensed, looking out at a completely empty balcony.

  I laughed a little sheepishly and lowered my gun.

  “Guess my eyes were playing tricks on me,” I said.

  Marie shook her head and pointed. I followed her finger and there, in the dry area where part of the balcony was sheltered by the overhang above, was a pair of wet shoe prints.

  CHAPTER

  24

  “So there was nobody there, but there was these footprints?” asked John.

  He was looking at a series of pictures I’d taken of the footprints while Marie had been waking our friends up.

  “You know,” said Eva, yawning, “I just remembered why I didn’t like dating you, Jack. Nobody around you ever gets a good night’s sleep.”

  Marie was glowering at the Swiss woman. Eva was eliciting frosty looks from Anna, too, probably because she had turned up to our room wearing a pair of tight shorts and a low-cut vest that displayed plenty of cleavage.

  John and I were in the bedroom, looking out at the balcony. The footprints were drying but they were still obvious if you knew what you were looking for.

  The storm had passed and it had stopped raining, but we could still hear rumbles off in the distance.

  John slid the door aside and stepped out onto the balcony. He compared the remaining wet smudges to the photo on the laptop and took a rough measurement with a spread hand.

  “Well,” he said thoughtfully, “from the size it’s either a man with tiny feet or a woman. We’re in France so I wouldn’t rule out the former.”

  “Funny,” I said.

  “But,” he said, looking up and around, “To climb up here, and get away that quickly, we have to be talking vampire. Or possibly werewolf.”

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “Thinking something, boss?” he said.

  “I occasionally do that with my brain,” I said. “It was a vampire. Marie could smell them out here. But why would a vampire be watching us?”

  “Well, Anna did contact the club while you were with the werewolf pack. Told them that Sir John was in town and was interested in a little distraction. Maybe they were checking you out?”

  “Nah, that doesn’t wash,” I said as John closed the door and we went back into the sitting room where everyone else was.

  “Why not, boss?” said Cam.

  “Because the vamps around here have ways of doing that without physically coming here. And what could a vamp learn standing out on the balcony in a thunderstorm? Not a bloody thing.”

  “So what’s your theory?” said Eva.

  “I dunno. Maybe it was a rogue, some vamp unconnected to the main groups, looking for a feed, decided to check out the hotel to see if a window was unlocked?”

  “Not in Paris,” said Eva. “Trust me, any vamp who wanted to feed around here could drink themselves sick for years and not have to suck from the same willing donor twice.”

  I leaned against the back of the couch, deep in thought.

  “Boss?” said Bolt. “You have a ‘yeah, but’ on your face.”

  I nodded.

  “Yeah, but what if some vamp got tired of the willing? I mean, vamps like to boast that fear spices the blood, makes it taste better.”

  “Adrenaline,” said Anna, nodding. “It does make the blood a little more heady.”

  “So I'm told,” I said. “Maybe it’s more than that. Maybe it’s psychological. Maybe the blood is more satisfying if the victim is hunted rather than willing.”

  “I dunno, boss,” said John. “Doesn’t sound likely.”

  “Okay, well, How about this?” I said. “Take America; The richest, most consumer-driven society in the world and yet a segment of the population still hunts for the dinner table and—remember—consider themselves more American for doing it. Maybe there’s vamps that are the same way, they look down on those who feed from the willing, like they’re wimps who don’t understand what it means to be a true vampire.”

  “We don’t even know if the vamp was here to feed,” Jeurgen pointed out.

  “True,” I said. “They could have been here just for us.”

  There was silence in the room as we all mulled it over.

  “Oh well,” said Anna. “It’s not like we can do anything about it.”

  “True,” I said again. “We might as well get back to bed.”

  I didn’t need to add that everyone should keep their weapons close. The fact that everyone should check their windows was obvious. Nobody needed to be told to be on their guard.

  I went ahead and said it anyway.

  “And our next contestant on Mastermind,” said John, imitating the old TV trivia show, “is Jack Henderson. His specialist subject: The bloody obvious.”

  I spoke over the laughter.

  “Actually I specialize in giving a swift backhander to the incorrigibly cheeky.”

  “Sorry, boss,” he said, his grin fading not a jot.

  “Okay, if it’s so obvious there shouldn’t be a problem, right?” I said. “Do what you do. Let’s hit the sack.”

  CHAPTER

  25

  I woke up again. It was still dark. I was beginning to agree with Eva; a decent night’s sleep was something that seemed to happen to other people.

  For a second I couldn’t figure out what had awoken me. Marie wasn’t in the bed, but the light was on in the bathroom, so she must have felt the call of nature. I was wary and alert, but this didn’t feel like danger. Still, I picked up my gun and slipped around to the window, peering out between the curtains.

  Nothing. So what the hell?

  Then I heard a strange noise from the bathroom: a soft clang and a strange, low giggle.

  I strode over to the bathroom door and knocked softly.

  “Marie?” I said. “You okay, love?”

  That same giggle sounded.

  “Marie?”

  “Come on in, sexy,” she said.

  Only it didn’t sound like her.

  I cautiously cracked the door open and followed my SIG inside. Marie was alone, which was something of a relief.

  She was sitting on the floor, stark naked, her feet inside the sunken bathtub. Her eyes were half closed and she had a stupid grin on her face.

  “Hey, sexy alpha man,” she giggled. “You come to fuck your wolf?”

  “Marie? What’s going on?”

  “Oh, I have an idea,” she said, turning her head and trying to give me a sly look. “Why don’t I change and you can really fuck your wolf? You want to fuck your wolf, my Lord?”

  “Marie? Are you stoned?”

  “Poor ole me,” she said, her eyes filling with tears. “Poor ole me, can’t find a wolf to love me. No wolf wants Marie.”

  I frowned.

  “Marie?” I said, squatting down and trying to get on eye level with her.

  “Poor ole me had to find a human instead.”

  Ouch. That hurt.

  Suddenly, like the sun coming out from behind a cloud, she broke into an innocent, honest smile.

  “But my human’s the nicest man in the world. Love him, love him, wanna make him happy. Lucky me found a man, found a man to make me happy. Found a man better than a wolf.”

  “Sweetheart?” I said softly.

  “Hey!” she said. “There he is, there’s my human!”

  I smiled and reached out to take her hand.

  “What have you been taking, love?” I asked.

  She opened her right hand. Clutched there was a twist of what looked like old-fashioned hemp rope. It looked to be woven out of dried fibers. She took a bite out of the end and chewed.

  �
�Wolfsbane,” I said with a sigh. “Where the hell did you get wolfsbane from?”

  “Cam gave it to me,” she said, chewing with relish. “Got it from someone in the pack.”

  I sighed and shook my head.

  “Aw, poor Jack. What’s the matter?” she slurred.

  “Come on, let’s get you into bed, and then I think I need to go have a word with our friend Cam.”

  I gathered her into my arms and stood up.

  “Oh Jack, my perfect man,” she said, laying her head on my shoulder. “I love you so much.”

  “I love you, too,” I said with a soft sigh.

  “No, Jack,” she said, pouting. “Say it like you mean it.”

  “Okay, okay. I love you.”

  “Better,” she said.

  I carried her over to the bed, trying to ignore the way she was kissing my neck. I lay her down on the bed and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

  “You and I are going to talk about this in the morning,” I said.

  She rolled over onto her side and made a contented noise. I took the twist of wolfsbane from her unresisting hand. Fucking hell, this was all I needed. Laying by the sink was the baggie that the drug had, presumably, come in. I slipped it back inside and sealed the top. I tapped the drug against my hand. Unfortunately I knew what I had to do.

  I slipped out of the bedroom and closed the door quietly. Cam’s room was next to ours, as befits a bodyguard. I knocked on the connecting door.

  There was no response, so I knocked louder. There was a muffled voice from inside so I stepped back. The door opened and Cam ducked under the doorway.

  “What’s up boss?” he said.

  I punched him across the face as hard as I could. Luckily I caught him off balance. He stumbled backwards and slammed into the door frame. He spun towards me, his lips drawn back from his teeth, death in his eyes.

  I held the baggie up between us and locked eyes with him, daring him to try something.

  He took one step towards me and then focused on the twist of dried vegetation in the bag.

  “You know my rule, Cam,” I said, low menace in my voice. “If there’s a problem, we clear the air or someone leaves. I have a problem with you. I don’t like drugs. Do what the fuck you want when you’re off duty, but when you’re on duty, leave it behind.”

  “It’s not addictive, boss,” he said.

  “That’s no fucking excuse. If we had to go into a combat situation right now we’d be going in two men down.”

  “Two? Why—”

  “Marie and whoever we’d have to leave behind to look after her.”

  He said probably the only thing he could have to diffuse the situation.

  “You’re right, boss. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

  I stared at him for a long moment.

  “Okay, make sure it doesn’t.”

  “Honest, boss. I had no idea she was going to take so much.”

  “That’s between me and her,” I said. “Just … just go back to bed and we’ll call this matter settled. Agreed?”

  He nodded and turned back towards the door.

  “And sorry about your nose.”

  He turned and licked the blood from his top lip.

  “That’s okay. Good hit, boss.”

  I shook my head and walked away.

  Back in our room I closed the door and leaned against it before my legs gave out. My whole body was shaking with the adrenaline rush. Had I really just punched a werewolf in the face? And walked away? I scrubbed my face with trembling hands as my heart rate wound down towards normal. Holy shit. Just … holy shit. There was a long, shallow cut across my knuckles, presumably from one of Cam’s huge canines, that was sluggishly oozing blood. I licked the blood off of the wound and flexed my hand. Yeah, it wasn’t too bad.

  Marie seemed to be asleep, which was a relief. I would let her sleep it off and give her the lecture in the morning. The last thing I needed right now was a stoned werewolf on my case. I sat down on the edge of the bed and stared at the little baggie of wolfsbane, wondering why she’d been taking it.

  “Hey sexy alpha,” said Marie, running her hand down my back. “Wanna play?”

  “No, Marie,” I said. “Go back to sleep.”

  “I don’t want to sleep. I want to play.”

  Suddenly she grabbed my arm and yanked me back onto the bed. With startling speed she was straddling me, pinning my hands above my bed.

  “Hi sexy alpha man,” she whispered.

  “Marie, let me up,” I said in as calm a voice as I could manage.

  “Nope,” she said and giggled.

  “Marie, don’t do this.”

  “Why not? You want me. I’m your little wolf. Little wolf to fuck. Little fucking wolf to fuck and have fun with.”

  “Marie,” I said, letting some authority slide into my voice. “Get off of me.”

  Hey eyes were drifting in and out of focus and she seemed to be swallowing a lot.

  “Ah, Marie, if you’re going to puke, can you at least let me get clear?”

  “’m not gonna puke,” she slurred, then she toppled off of me and landed on the bed.

  I sat up quickly and turned to her.

  “Jack,” she said as her eyelids fluttered closed. “’m sorry.”

  I shook my head sadly. I was uncertain about the effects of wolfsbane. Could she overdose? The thought terrified me.

  I leaned over her. Should I wake her up? Keep her conscious? Maybe keep her walking around? Some drugs you were supposed to do that. With others it was better to let the person sleep it off. I didn’t know and I hated not knowing.

  For a few seconds I was lost in indecision, then I let my instincts take over. Using as gentle a touch as I could I rolled her over onto her side, moving her hands and legs into the recovery position I’d learned all those years ago as a snotty little kid in shorts and a cub scout neckerchief. I smiled at that image as I sat back on my heels and watched her. I wondered how many of my peers—and how many of the vampires I hunted—would feel their respect for me ratcheting down if they found out that the scrap of braided leather on my keyring was actually the woggle I’d made at camp. Worse, I thought, if they found out that the reason our Akela—our pack leader if you can stand the irony—had shown me how to make the woggle was because she was desperately trying to find a way to stop me crying about how much I missed my mum. I wondered how many would even know what a woggle is.

  Okay, I was deflecting; trying to think of anything other than the situation I was in. Bad habit. I did have an idea, though.

  I quietly left the room and stood in the sitting room. I had, I calculated, three options. I could wake Cam up and ask him what I should do, but that seemed like it would smack of weakness. I’d do it, but not as a first option. I could call Liam and ask his advice, but that would involve Marie’s brother in Marie’s problem. Again, not as my first choice.

  So, first option: I sat down at the laptop, booted it up, brought up the Ministry database access page, and typed ‘WOLFSBANE OVERDOSE’.

  CHAPTER

  26

  Marie rolled over onto her back and started snoring; a light, almost cute buzz. As I had done four times during the night I gently rolled her back onto her side and put her back into the recovery position.

  “Jack,” she said softly. “I wish you’d stop doing that.”

  “I will, as soon as I’m sure you’re not going to die.”

  She blinked sleepily, and then her eyes opened wide.

  “Oh, Jack,” she gasped. “Last night, did I …”

  “Yes,” I said. “You did. How are you feeling?”

  “Um, I feel okay.”

  Yeah, that was one of the things the Ministry database had noted: wolfsbane had no long-term effect on werewolves. They got high, they came back down, and they didn’t even get a hangover. Life just isn’t fair.

  “Good, get up and put some clothes on.”

  “Jack? Have you been awake all night?”

&n
bsp; “Get up and put some clothes on,” I repeated firmly.

  “Okay, Jack,” she said, looking puzzled.

  While she was dressing I pulled on a t-shirt. I was still wearing my trousers from last night.

  “Okay, Jack,” she said in a subdued voice.

  “We’re calling this your official bollocking,” I said firmly. “Don’t ever take drugs on duty. I don’t give a fuck how harmless they may be, how natural, how non-addictive. I’ll tell you the same thing I told Cam: if we’d had to go fight, we’d have been two bodies light. You could have hurt the team. You could have gotten people killed.”

  She stared at me for a second before lowering her eyes.

  “Yes, boss,” she said, fighting tears. “I’m sorry boss.”

  “It does not happen again, you understand?”

  “Yes, boss.”

  “Now, nothing bad actually happened beyond me losing a night’s sleep, so we’ll leave it at that, okay?”

  “Okay, boss,” she said, still not meeting my eyes.

  I controlled my temper with difficulty. I wanted to rant and rave, to wave my hands around and demand answers, but I was pretty sure that approach would be counterproductive at best.

  “Come here,” I said.

  Marie looked up at me, hope shining through the tears in her eyes. She practically ran into my arms. I enfolded her in a tight embrace and kissed the top of her head.

  “I’m really pissed off at you,” I said and kissed her on the forehead.

  “You scared the shit out of me last night,” I said and kissed her cheek.

  “Don’t ever do that again,” I said and kissed her lips.

  “Are you ever going to forgive me?” she said.

  “Well, Pagan has already forgiven you,” I said.

  “Pagan has?”

  “Yeah. You screwed up, you know you screwed up, you understand why it was a screw up, so Pagan’s okay.”

  “And Jack?”

  “I may take a little while longer, sweetheart.”

  “Anything I can do to make it better?” she asked, looking up at me.