by Tina Folsom
Blake parked in the spot permanently reserved for him, and glanced at the other cars. He wasn’t surprised to see Amaury’s sports car and Gabriel’s SUV parked next to the Woodford family’s three cars. But he was surprised to see the BMW Z4 of Amaury’s twins. While Amaury could certainly afford to give each of his sons his own car, there’d been no point: Damian and Benjamin went everywhere together.
The moment the garage door closed behind him, shutting out the mid-morning sun, Blake jumped out of the car and marched toward the stairs leading to the first floor. He heard the voices before he even opened the door to the hallway. When he entered, he walked straight into the open-plan living area where most of the visitors were assembled.
Samson, Amaury, and Gabriel stood near the fireplace, talking, while the hybrids were centered around the dining room table, gobbling down mountains of food. Unlike their vampire parents, who only consumed blood, they could sustain themselves on both.
The twins were stuffing their faces, while Grayson paced back and forth. His younger brother, Patrick sat at the table, head in his hands, while next to him, Vanessa, Gabriel and Maya’s fifteen-year-old daughter patted his arm in sympathy. Her brothers, seventeen-year-old Ethan and eighteen-year-old Ryder, watched Grayson as if they expected him to explode at any moment.
Neither Delilah, nor Nina, nor Maya were anywhere to be seen. Blake listened intently and perceived the faint sound of footsteps from the upper floor. Well, it was best anyway that Delilah was upstairs with her girlfriends. She was too agitated. And right now, cool heads were paramount. Decisions had to be made.
The door to the garage fell shut behind Blake. Several pairs of eyes immediately landed on him as he walked into the center of the living room. The hybrids jumped up and approached, and the three adult vampires stopped talking and looked at him expectantly. Blake felt the weight of responsibility on his shoulders and the tension that came with it, but he was determined not to let anybody down. This was his greatest trial, the one he’d trained for countless times.
“Any news?” Samson’s tight voice cut through the silence.
“We have a positive sighting. A security camera at a gas station. It picked up her red dress. That kind of gown is hard to overlook.”
Samson came closer, hands clenched, shoulders lifted. “Is she hurt?”
“We don’t know. We couldn’t get a visual of her face, and because of the dress’s color… Sorry, we couldn’t tell if she was injured or not, but we know who her kidnapper is.”
Several relieved sighs echoed in the room.
“Who?” Samson ground out, his fangs descending, most likely without him even noticing.
“We ran his picture through facial recognition software and got a match. A small time crook by the name of Antonio Mendoza. Thomas is hacking into the DMV right now to get us an address for him.”
Samson nodded. “We need to get him. Now.”
“I agree. Let’s not wait till tonight. We know he’s got Isabelle, but we don’t know what he plans to do with her.” Blake turned toward the hybrids. “It’s going to be a daytime mission, which excludes us.” He motioned to himself, Samson, Amaury, and Gabriel. “Hybrids only.”
Damian and Benjamin already jockeyed into position. Damian put his arm around his brother’s shoulder. “We’re in.”
“Me, too,” Grayson gritted through his teeth. “I’m going to gut that bastard.”
Patrick stepped next to his brother. “Not if I gut him first.”
“Out of the question!” Delilah’s voice came from the sweeping staircase that led down from the second floor.
Blake turned on his heel, watching how she descended, followed by Maya and Nina.
“Mom!” Patrick protested. “I’m going with them to save Isa.”
“No, you won’t! You’re too young. And you’re not trained yet.”
Patrick spun around, hands at his hips, and faced Samson. “Dad!”
“Your mother is right,” Samson replied. “As much as we all want to go in there and bring Isabelle back, we can’t.” He motioned to the older boys. “Damian, Benjamin, and Grayson can handle it.”
“Dad?” Ryder suddenly said, looking at Gabriel. “With your permission, I’d like to join them.”
Blake watched as Gabriel exchanged a quick glance with his mate, Maya, before nodding. “Of course.”
“It’s not fair,” Patrick protested.
Grayson turned to him and squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll get her back for us, promise. But you need to stay with Mom and Dad. They need you now.”
Patrick looked at his brother. “Okay. But if something goes wrong, I’m going to whoop your ass.”
Grayson brushed his hand through his younger brother’s hair, messing it up. “It won’t come to that.”
“Well, good,” Blake said, steering the conversation back to the task at hand. “The boys need to head back to HQ to get ready. Get yourselves suited up with the reinforced Kevlar gear and semi-automatics. I want you protected against any silver bullets or stakes. We don’t know yet whether Mendoza has any accomplices. And you’ll be wearing cameras, so I can guide you from HQ.”
Gabriel tossed a set of keys to Ryder. “Take the SUV to get to HQ. I want you all riding together.” He gave Damian and Benjamin a pointed look. “The sports car stays here.”
“Spoilsport,” Benjamin grunted under his breath.
“Let’s go,” Grayson ordered, assuming command just as naturally as his father.
“I’ll give you further instructions when I get back to HQ,” Blake added.
The four hybrids walked to the stairs leading into the garage and disappeared. When the door shut behind them, Blake turned back to the three male vampires and their mates. The younger hybrids watched them with interest.
“There’s something else.”
Delilah reached for her husband’s hand, her eyes widening in fear. “What is it?”
Blake exchanged a look with Samson, who nodded. He’d filled Samson in earlier. “Isabelle wasn’t the kidnapper’s target. It was Katie. He mistook Isabelle for Katie. I don’t know why or how, perhaps because they looked so similar in their costumes and hairdos. It doesn’t matter now.” He sighed. “Katie called me earlier. She has some letters that might point to the kidnapper. Some crazy fan. We’re trying to figure out whether Mendoza is that man.”
“I don’t understand,” Delilah interrupted. “You just said that Mendoza has Isabelle. So it must be him.”
Blake shook his head. “It’s possible that he wasn’t acting alone. He could have been hired. Do you think a crazy, stalker-type fan would really mistake Isabelle for Katie? I doubt it. He would have immediately recognized that he had the wrong woman. That’s why I suspect that Mendoza is working for someone.”
“Have you gotten anything from the letters yet? Fingerprints? Anything at all?” Samson asked, pulling his wife closer to him.
Blake rubbed the back of his neck. “We don’t have the letters.”
“But Katie—”
“Katie isn’t answering her phone. Haven is on his way to her house to check on her and get the letters so we can analyze them. If Mendoza isn’t working alone, we need to know that, or we’re sending the boys into undue danger.”
Blake searched Samson’s eyes.
A second later, Samson nodded in agreement. “I want all our bases covered. We have to be prepared for when Mendoza realizes that he’s got the wrong woman.”
Blake set his jaw into a grim line. Yes, once Mendoza realized he had the wrong woman, he’d come after Katie too, and Isabelle would then become a burden to him. They had to get to him before that happened.
His cell phone pinged. Blake pulled it from his pocket and looked at it. “Oh good, that’s Haven.” He accepted the call. “Hey, what have you got for me?”
“Katie never got home.”
Blake felt the blood in his veins turn to ice.
14
The call still echoed in his ears.
&
nbsp; “You have to come, Luther!” Samson’s voice implored him. “She’s in a bad way.”
Before the last word was even spoken, Luther raced outside into the dark and jumped onto his motorcycle.
Buildings flew past him, lights flashed by him, the wind in his ears drowned out all sounds, but it couldn’t drown out his thoughts.
“Vivian, I’m coming! I’ll be there.”
Minutes became hours. His fingers around the handlebars turned to ice, holding on for dear life. His back was as stiff as a brick wall, his neck frozen in its position, his eyes focused only on the road ahead.
Only one thought filled his mind, repeating on an infinite loop. It’s not time yet.
The baby was coming too early. Two months too soon.
That’s why he wasn’t with her, why he’d taken another assignment, thinking she would be safe for a few days without him.
She’d assured him she was fine just before he’d left. “Go, Luther. I don’t need you hovering around the house like a caged tiger.”
He’d met her eyes and known she was right. They’d fought frequently in the previous months. It was his fault, of course, he knew that.
He’d been too demanding, had wanted to continue the same way with her as before the pregnancy. Wasn’t that what blood-bonded couples did?
He needed her, wanted to make love to her every day. But the further Vivian’s pregnancy had progressed, the less affection and attention she’d shown him. The less she’d wanted him.
“I’m afraid for the baby,” she’d explained. “I don’t want us to hurt it.”
The baby growing in her belly had become her first priority.
Luther knew it was only temporary. He held onto that belief. So he’d accepted it, been the supportive husband and had put his own needs aside. Only his need for Vivian’s blood did he allow himself to satisfy—because as a vampire blood-bonded to a human he could only consume her blood. Everything else would make him sick.
He felt his hunger now as he accelerated his motorcycle into a curve. For two nights he hadn’t fed, but that wasn’t the reason his hunger surfaced now with unmistakable urgency. As he entered the city and stopped at a red light, he felt it in the pit of his stomach. He knew something was wrong.
When he rested one foot on the asphalt and turned his head to the left, the scent of human blood drifted to him. It came from a couple walking arm in arm to their car. And it tempted him when it shouldn’t. Because no blood-bonded vampire lusted after blood other than that of his mate.
“Vivian!” he screamed from the top of his lungs and shot over the intersection, ignoring the cars trying to avoid a collision. “Vivian! Hold on!”
He reached out to her with his mind.
Vivian! Please! Stay with me. I’m here. I love you. Please don’t leave me.
But even as he communicated those thoughts via the telepathic bond, he knew that he wouldn’t get an answer.
Vivian was no more.
Only rage guided his body now, leading him to his house ablaze with lights on every level.
Luther flung the door open. Upstairs, in the bed where he’d made love to her so many times, Vivian lay, lifeless.
Samson and Amaury stood by the bed, silently staring at him as he entered.
Maybe if she’d died alone, he would have been able to accept it. But his friends had stood by. And done nothing.
“You let her die!” His heart turned to stone. “You could have saved her!”
Had they turned her into a vampire, Vivian would have lived.
“I hate you!”
They offered no excuses.
He didn’t hear their condolences, their false words of comfort. False, because they couldn’t imagine what he was going through. None of them had a mate and knew what true love meant.
He’d lost Vivian, his mate, the love of his life. The woman he was going to spend eternity with.
“The child?” he asked, not even looking over his shoulder as Samson and Amaury walked to the door.
Samson’s hesitation and almost inaudible intake of air told him everything he needed to know.
Luther growled, feeling his fangs lengthen. “Leave my house!”
“Luther, when you’re better, we’ll talk,” Amaury said.
Luther pivoted, glaring at the two vampires who’d once been his best friends. “Leave, or I will kill you both!”
They finally heeded the warning.
Silence descended upon the house. He shed no tears, not for a long time, only stared at the pale face of the woman he loved more than his own life. When he ran his fingers over her face, the coldness of her skin shocked him to the core. Never again would he sense her warmth, taste her sweet blood, feel her body shudder around him in ecstasy.
“We’ll be together again one day. I promise you. Just as soon as I’ve avenged your death!”
But Samson and Amaury weren’t the only ones responsible: he, Luther, was the culpable one. His child had killed her. It was his fault. Therefore he had to be punished, too.
15
Blake stared at the bank of computer screens in front of him. Samson was sitting to his left, while Thomas had taken a seat to his right. But this was Blake’s operation. He was orchestrating it. And the four young hybrids, Grayson, Damian, Benjamin, and Ryder were his puppets. He wished he could be there with them, but a mission like this was too unpredictable, and he couldn’t risk being exposed to sunlight should anything go wrong. The hybrids, on the other hand, didn’t have such shortcomings. The sun couldn’t harm them, though silver bullets or a stake would kill them as surely as they killed a full-blooded vampire.
That’s why he’d had them dress in reinforced Kevlar suits protecting their vital organs. To give them sufficient mobility, their arms and legs were unprotected—though they wore gloves—, as were their heads. Unfortunately, not all risks could be eliminated. That’s why Blake had insisted on the hybrids wearing specially designed headbands with a built in camera that weighed no more than an ounce. The cameras were feeding live pictures to the four monitors in the center of the wall in front of him. Each monitor Blake had labeled with a name. This way, it was immediately obvious which hybrid saw what, and Blake and his colleagues could interfere and redirect them should it become necessary.
In addition, a software program Thomas had been working on had been installed in the console. Together with the video feeds from the hybrids’ cameras and their exact GPS locations, which were constantly being transmitted back to HQ, a live 3-D video was being created and projected on a larger screen above. It blended the individual camera feeds and created a more comprehensive image, giving Blake a full view of what was happening with and around his charges.
Blake zoomed in on Damian, who was driving the Minivan, which was equipped with a small cell and silver chains to transport a prisoner.
“Remember, take him alive if you can,” Blake reminded the four young men via the intercom that fed directly into their earpieces.
A few grunts came as a reply.
Samson leaned in to use the mic. “I mean it,” he emphasized.
“Yes, sir,” came Ryder’s reply.
“Grayson?” Samson prompted.
“Yes, Dad. I heard you loud and clear.”
Blake exchanged a look with Samson and muted the mic. “He’ll come through when it counts. You’ve gotta trust him. He’s just like you.”
Samson scoffed, though an expression of pride crossed his face for a fleeting instant. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Blake turned back to the screens. The Minivan had stopped.
“We’re here,” Benjamin announced.
“As we discussed, stick to the plan. It’s a go,” Blake said.
The four young hybrids exited the van.
There was little cover during daylight hours. The house was a ranch style dwelling in a somewhat dilapidated state. The neighborhood wasn’t much better: some parts of the Excelsior district were decent, but there were pockets with crack
houses and gang-occupied properties the owners had long given up on. At least none of the neighbors would call the police when they saw Grayson and his friends approach the house, looking like ninjas.
The yard in front of the house was brown and overgrown with weeds. A few bushes lined the paved driveway, and a path led past the house to the back of it.
“Two at the back, two at the front,” Blake said into the mic.
The twins headed for the front door, while Grayson and Ryder quietly and swiftly took the narrow path to the back of the house. Old household appliances, parts of a bicycle and other trash covered the back yard.
“Doesn’t look like Mendoza can spot a good real estate investment,” Blake commented.
“When this is over, he won’t need any investments anymore.” The dry remark came from Zane, who was standing behind them.
Blake didn’t take his eyes off the monitors, when he replied, “You’ve got that right.” Then he pressed the button on the mic. “Enter on Grayson’s command.”
There was absolute silence in the command room. Nobody spoke, nobody as much as breathed. The air was thick with tension. Everybody’s eyes were glued to the monitors.
Blake focused in on the 3-D feed. With a joystick he moved the image on the screen, turning it so he could inspect the house from all sides.
“Going in,” Grayson confirmed and gave Ryder a sign.
Ryder kicked the back door in with his foot, lifting it out of its hinges. Simultaneously, the twins did the same in the front. Weapons drawn, all four rushed into the house.
Like a military team, they covered each other as they charged from room to room. They’d trained for scenarios like this, but Blake was surprised at how calm the four hybrids seemed, even though they knew what hinged on this mission. Pride swelled in his chest. One day soon they would make some fine bodyguards.
