* * *
"Where's the van?" Weldon surveyed the parking lot. They'd stopped at a restaurant for breakfast and now the van wasn't where they'd left it.
"Fuck!" Winkler shouted, turning a circle in the empty space. Davis pulled out his cell and dialed the police.
* * *
"I have the van and all the bags," Elias Garber spoke into the pre-paid cell phone he carried.
"Good." Karl Johnson was pacing inside his downtown Dallas hotel suite. "As soon as you hit the New Mexico border, stop and open every one of those bags, got it? I want everything exposed to daylight. No matter what you see, under no circumstances are you to close any of those bags up again, you understand?" Karl was barking orders over the phone. He'd spent years intimidating prosecutors and witnesses alike inside the courtroom and he was used to being obeyed. Winkler was going down and Karl's daughter and grandchildren would inherit the Winkler Empire. Karl smiled as he terminated the call.
"What the fuck is he talking about?" Elias grumbled to himself, tossing the cell into the passenger seat. He would be well paid for this bit of thievery, however, so he turned his mind to what he might do with the money and kept driving.
* * *
Sebastian was a crazed fiend, slashing Stephan across the chest, along with causing minor injuries to some of the others as he fought them off. Paul and his werewolf companions quickly captured the human slave, who cowered away from the swift and vicious fighting among the vampires. Weeping and drooling as they held him, the human stared in blank-eyed fright as Paul and his companions pulled him away. The werewolves were satisfied to watch as the vampires worked to contain the rogue—the beastly hulk had burst from the cellar with a roar, attempting to fight all who'd come to capture him.
"Hold and stand," Merrill thundered, placing a strong enough compulsion to break any coherent mind once he'd caught Sebastian's gaze. Sebastian was no longer coherent but Merrill's compulsion held. Sebastian halted in his tracks, wavering a little at the sudden cease of movement in the empty field outside the cottage.
"Chain him," Merrill commanded. Rolfe and Gavin took the chains that Brock held, fastening them around Sebastian's neck, wrists, waist and ankles. "You may blink," Merrill said. Sebastian blinked. "Now, follow this one," Merrill placed Gavin before Sebastian. Rolfe and Radomir walked at Sebastian's side; the two misters came behind. Gavin led the way to the waiting vehicles as Merrill hung back to speak with Paul and his werewolf companions.
"We owe you," Merrill nodded to them. "If you need assistance with this one or with anything else that doesn't violate our laws, contact us through the email you have. Someone will answer." Merrill jerked his head at the blank-eyed human.
"I am grateful that your female went to the Grand Master and asked him to help with this," Paul said. "He informed me that she is Pack, along with being one of yours. I would never have gone outside my jurisdiction otherwise. I had to take vacation time to do this but as you can see, it was well worth it."
"If you need reimbursement, contact this number," Merrill said, handing over a business card with his solicitor's name and phone number printed across the front.
Paul snorted. "This is my reimbursement," he nodded toward the blond man. "The children are safer tonight."
"Yes, they are," Merrill agreed, turning to follow the other vampires.
* * *
"What the fuck do you mean, somebody stole the van?" Tony Hancock wanted to tear his hair out by the roots. Winkler called him after local police had been less than sympathetic over a stolen van and luggage. They had murderers and more important things to deal with, they'd pointed out. Winkler couldn't tell them it was a kidnapping and possible murder, along with the theft. How could you explain to the police that the thief had taken a bag containing a female vampire?
"We stopped for breakfast and it was gone when we came out," Winkler knew his words were weak. They should have driven straight home, but the lure of steak and eggs was too great at his favorite breakfast restaurant.
"Do you have the tag number? Anything to identify it?" Tony was brusque as he asked pertinent questions.
Winkler rattled off the tag number and a description of the van, realizing it might not help much. Nothing prevented the thief from covering Winkler Security decals or removing or changing tags. And if Lissa wasn't found, either Davis or Trajan would be forced to fight come Wednesday night. Winkler didn't want that to happen. Karl was consistently tight-lipped over the approaching challenge and that spelled one thing to Winkler—Kellee's father had paid a fighter and was waiting to reveal him at the challenge. There were a few mercenaries in the werewolf world—those that specialized in gaining a Pack for any challenger who might afford their services. If Winkler's Second, temporary or otherwise, lost the confrontation, Winkler's continued existence would be at the mercy of the New Dallas Packmaster—Kellee's father Karl Johnson. Weldon was there to enforce Pack law and Winkler would be a dead wolf, leaving Kellee and his unborn children as heirs to his empire. Winkler growled just thinking about it. He wondered if this had been Kellee's intent all along, with Karl pushing her, of course.
"I'll get people on this," Tony said, bringing Winkler back to earth. "I'll hand the information to the Texas Highway Patrol and the Dallas FBI office," he added. "We'll keep you posted." Tony hung up. Winkler was back to cursing again.
* * *
"You've lost my Pack member?" Thomas Williams was incredulous as Winkler paced inside his spacious kitchen.
"The van was stolen," Winkler growled. Weldon wasn't speaking to him now and neither was Davis. Thomas Williams was about to join that growing crowd.
* * *
"Daddy, Winkler's trying to explain things to the Sacramento Packmaster," Kellee giggled while she whispered into her cell phone. "He isn't happy, Daddy."
"Just hold tight, baby, we're going to come out of this smelling like a rose," Karl assured his daughter. It was such a stroke of luck that Kellee had gotten pregnant. Karl had sent her after Winkler—to seduce him. Karl was hoping a marriage might come about—after all, his little girl was model gorgeous and Winkler should have fallen for her like a ton of bricks. They'd been on the outs, though, and Kellee was about to get sent packing when she discovered she was pregnant. No doubt about it, his little girl could turn on the waterworks when she needed it. Now, he and his daughter were in Dallas and Karl was about to take over the vast Winkler empire. Karl left his wife in Boise; she fretted over things like this and there really wasn't any need to worry—Karl had things well in hand.
* * *
Six hours had passed since the van was stolen and there was no word. Winkler sent some of his Pack out, checking the major highways out of town, but nothing had been found or reported. This was the needle in the haystack and the only one who might have been successful at tracking the van would be Lissa herself. Instead, she was zipped inside a body bag in the back of a stolen van. At least he hoped she was still zipped inside it and not burning out in the sun somewhere.
* * *
Elias passed a sign indicating the distance to Hobbs, New Mexico. He had fifty miles to go to complete his mission, make his last phone call and arrange to collect the money in two days. He would be very glad to walk away from all this. The latex gloves he wore were hot; he'd been compelled to wear them so his fingerprints wouldn't be found. Now, his hands were sweating and slick inside them. He had the A/C turned as high as it would go—it was quite warm in west Texas and New Mexico would be the same if not warmer. Elias made sure he drove the speed limit. Even with replacement tags on the vehicle and temporary decals covering the originals, the van itself might raise suspicions if he were stopped. Elias didn't want to risk it.
Forty minutes later, Elias pulled off the highway and went in search of a farm road so this job could be finished. It was around four, perhaps a little after, and the sun was still high but falling toward the horizon. Elias found what he wanted—a dirt road past a small town. He turned onto that. After making sure n
obody was watching, Elias stopped the van. "I don't know what the hell he wanted all the bags opened up for, but hey, fifty grand ain't nothin' to sneeze at," Elias mumbled, jerking the van's back doors open.
"Hello," Griffin smiled at Elias and allowed his long legs to swing out of the van.
Chapter 12
Elias backed up so fast he fell, raising a small dust cloud on the dirt road as he hit the dry surface. Griffin was standing now and that caused Elias to crab backward. "You can't get away," Griffin said pleasantly. "You may as well stop now." Elias was shaking his head but his limbs suddenly refused to obey, forcing his body to drop onto the dusty road.
"We'll wait for sunset, I think," Griffin went on, scanning the sky. He returned to the van and sat on the back edge, allowing the roof of the van to shade his face.
* * *
I was still zipped inside the body bag when I woke and that shouldn't be. That always terrifies me, as I'm slightly claustrophobic. My claws were fully extended as I ripped my way from the bag—I was wild-eyed, fanged and clawed when I slashed my way through the thick, black material. The man lying on his back in the dust behind the van shrieked and rolled over in an attempt to rise and run at the sight of me. He shouldn't have done that. I was on him in two blinks, hauling him back by the collar and shaking him. He tried to fight me until I held a single, lengthy claw against his throat, which deflated him immediately.
"Would you care to tell me where I am and who you are?" I placed compulsion. He shook his head as best he could since I still had a claw against his neck. "Let me rephrase that, then," I said. "Tell me who you are and where I am."
"E-Elias Garber," he stuttered. "Just south of N-Nadine, New Mexico."
* * *
"We should be hearing from her soon if she's still alive," Weldon lifted an edge of the heavy drapes covering his guesthouse window. The sun had finally set. Thomas Williams and Kipp North were both in the living area with the Grand Master and Thomas was clearly upset.
"And what if we don't hear from her?" Thomas rose from his seat and paced in an agitated manner.
"Then I hope we find the van," Weldon sighed.
"For the fucking bags?"
"To give Lissa a proper funeral," Weldon corrected.
* * *
"That's right, sir. I opened the bags, just like you said." Elias placed the phone call as instructed.
"And what did you see?" The voice on the other end queried.
"Somethin' turned to ash. Just burned right up," Elias replied.
"Very good. Excellent. You've earned your money. I'll send it to the place we agreed upon," Karl Johnson's voice was almost gleeful. "Dump the van. You didn't leave fingerprints, did you?"
"No, sir. Wore gloves the whole time."
"Perfect. You've done me good service." The phone went dead.
Elias held the phone out to me, his eyes still empty. I held him under compulsion and he'd spilled everything, including giving me the description of the man who'd hired him for the job. Kellee's daddy wanted me dead for sure. He probably had some thug coming in that would kill whoever Winkler put forward, just so he and his scheming little bitch girl could take what Winkler had built. I might have been pissed at Winkler, but Kellee and her daddy were the scum of the earth. If Winkler's Second died, Winkler's life might be forfeit as well. At least that's what Tony said. He was well versed on werewolf politics, since his mother was a werewolf and his werewolf stepfather was Second in the Denver Pack.
Taking the phone away from Elias, I grabbed my laptop from the back of the van, along with my cooler of blood and the ripped-up body bag.
"You'll forget you ever saw me alive," I said. "You're free. Go on," I nodded at Elias.
"I can pick up my money?"
"Absolutely," I said. He jumped into the van and drove off. I pulled out my cell and placed a call to Tony.
"No, I don't want Winkler to know," I said after Thomas Williams Jr. nearly shouted with relief while listening in on my phone conversation with Weldon. "He'll think I'm dead, just as Karl and Kellee think I'm dead. Actually, Karl thinks he knows I'm dead."
"Lissa, we had no idea." Weldon and Thomas had left the grounds of Winkler's mansion. I'd asked Tony to give Weldon and Thomas a call, telling them to go elsewhere before contacting me. Winkler was in the security business after all, and I wouldn't put it past him to have the place bugged or something.
"What about the guy who was paid to steal the van?"
"I got the location for the money drop-off and Tony's sending somebody to apprehend him," I replied. "Where is the challenge going to take place? And will there be a problem if I show up at the last minute?"
"There won't be," Weldon growled.
"Weldon, you and Thomas are going to have to turn in the acting job of your careers, I think. You need to act as if I'm still missing or dead. Tony knows that you'll be in contact with him from time to time. He may call you. At least there's only one more day that we have to wait."
"Where are you now?" Weldon asked.
"Someplace safe," I said.
"The challenge is at the Wilburn Ranch, just north of Denton," Weldon said. "Have you seen those big iron gates with the name spelled out in wrought iron?"
"Yeah. They raise race horses there, don't they?" I'd seen it on my trips between Oklahoma City and Dallas.
"That's the place. The challenge spot is half a mile behind the house, straight east, almost. There are trees there with a little clearing in the middle."
"I'll be there as long as there aren't any other surprises," I said.
"We're counting on it," Weldon grumbled and hung up.
I blew out a sigh and looked around me. The safe house that Gavin and I had spent Christmas in was still the same. The fridge was stocked with blood—Merrill had made a call or two and arranged that for me. Some nameless, faceless local vampire had done the legwork. That reminded me that I hadn't checked my email messages. I had one from Paul and another from Bryan Riley, the vampire I'd met in London who worked as an assistant to a night news producer. Intrigued, I opened it first. I got my first look at the news footage that had more than likely spilled over all the networks while I'd been hauled off to New Mexico in a stolen van. I'd been driven back to Dallas by an FBI agent at Tony's direction.
"Two local constables, with assistance from a vacationing policeman from Wales managed to track the child killer," the news anchor announced with a beautiful British accent. "The suspect is currently undergoing psychological testing and appears to be mentally incompetent. At times he confesses to every murder, at others he proclaims his innocence. Authorities are quite baffled over the entire affair." The footage skipped to a crowd waiting outside a building as the blond man was led to a waiting transport. The crowd was shouting and hurling insults at the man. I shook my head and closed the video portion of the email.
Thought you might want to see that, Bryan had written. I tapped out a thank you, before opening what Paul sent.
Lissa, you were right about all of it, he said. The other has been apprehended and I have no doubt that the situation will be rectified. Feel free to contact me any time if you need something—Paul.
Next on my list was a call to Gavin, and if there'd been any way to avoid that, I would have. Merrill still didn't know the whole story; I'd told him the van had been stolen and that I'd wakened on a deserted road and managed to get myself back to civilization. Gavin picked up on the first ring.
"Hi, honey," I said.
"Lissa, what is this I hear about your being kidnapped and driven to a neighboring state?" Gavin was demanding answers. No greetings or pleasantries with him. Nuh-uh. No way.
"Honey, I was asleep before they ever took me off the plane and apparently they stopped somewhere for a meal and the van was stolen. When I woke, the van was parked on a dirt road about a zillion miles from nowhere."
"Have they apprehended the thief?" He was angry I could tell—his temper was barely in check.
"Not yet, honey, but they
're looking."
"Lissa, when you come home to me, I will be most reluctant to allow you out of the country again." That might suck—what was I supposed to do, stay home and do needlepoint or something?
"Honey, does that mean you won't let me out of the house?"
"Lissa, I want to tell you not tax my patience, but I know that would make you crazy. Therefore, unless you find your way into more trouble, I will not confine you. I have no idea what Merrill plans to do over the entire situation. We will discuss this with him when you return." I was scheduled to go back in three weeks. I sighed wearily. "Lissa, I can almost see the pout on your pretty mouth," Gavin declared.
"Gavin, what if I told you that you couldn't leave the country? Or the house. Or whatever," my anger was rising a little. "You'd just stand there with that unreadable expression on your face, acting like I was insane or something. I didn't volunteer for this, Mr. I'm older so I get to tell you what to do Montegue. Wlodek loaned me out, I assume with Merrill's blessings. It was like they couldn't get me out of the country fast enough. Now explain that to me and then yell at me some more about leaving the country!" Yeah, I was shouting there at the end. Gavin most likely was holding the phone as far from his ear as he possibly could. I realized I was crying too, and reached up to wipe the tears away.
"Lissa, cara, I did not intend to upset you this much," Gavin's voice had gone softer. "Clearly you are more troubled over this theft and kidnapping than I imagined."
"I'll get over it," I sniffled.
"Lissa, do you love me?"
"Honey, you couldn't make me cry if I didn't."
There was silence on the other end so long I thought the call had dropped for a moment. "Cara, if I were there, I would be kissing your tears away."
"Honey, if you were here, I'd be sticking to you like a barnacle." I would, too. I wanted to weep in his arms for some reason and he wasn't here.
"Ma petite ange." I sobbed aloud at that. "Lissa, do not cry, love, you will be home soon. I am waiting for you."
"Okay, honey," I ended the call and attempted to get myself under control.
Blood Sense (Blood Destiny #3) Page 20
