Fallon's Revenge

by Mackenzie McKade

  “Get Doreen,” Adrian ordered Shorty and Dillon.

  When Chavez saw their intentions, he snapped his gaze from Fallon to Doreen. The corner of his lip rose baring his teeth, as he snarled, “She’s mine.” Before he could reach Doreen, Cougar reappeared, blocking his approach.

  With a lift of his chin, Chavez raised his face to the sky. Tendons bulged as if they would burst in his throat. He released a bloodcurdling scream that shook the treetops. Lightning zigzagged in a strange pattern across the heavens. He trembled with fury. Then he pinned Adrian with a hot glare. “You have not made a friend of me this night.” His warning was issued with eerie calm. With a push of his powerful legs he shot into the sky, his minions following as the clouds opened and swallowed them up.

  Tucker and Briar both lunged into the sky after Chavez.

  “Stop!” At Adrian’s command the two men hovered above him mid-air. “It’s a trap. Electrical netting. Chavez wants us to follow.”

  The heat of battle raged through his friends’ veins as it did his, but it was too late. The spider-web of lightning that continued to flash gave away the vampire’s trap.

  Adrian knelt down to pick Fallon up in his arms. “The fight is over for tonight.”

  But Doreen’s fight for life was not.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The following evening Fallon woke with the headache from hell. The consistent throb felt like someone beat upon her brain with a sledgehammer. Lethargically, she gave a mental push sending rich soil spraying into the air as she rose into the air.

  Unexpected pain greeted her. She couldn’t lift her arms—didn’t try—as a spasm tightened every inch of her body.

  “Ow-ow-ow,” she muttered, trying to comprehend why she hurt so badly.

  In a silent plea she requested the elements to cleanse her nakedness. It always made her feel better, she thought, praying for relief as she drifted down to the ground. The coolness of the dirt met her bare feet, but even that made her clench her teeth.

  “What happened?” she wondered, because it felt like she’d been caught in a stampede.

  With a quick scan of the room she discovered Adrian was nowhere to be seen. She was alone with her memories and they were vague at best. The last thing she remembered was a red haze filling her head and the thought of Chavez’s death.

  As she moved, pain splintered across her right shoulder. “Ow,” she cried again, cringing at the large black and blue area. Damn if it didn’t feel as if she’d been kicked by a horse.

  Why wasn’t her natural healing kicking in?

  Every step she took was a chore as she slowly and carefully headed toward the stairs. Even attiring herself in a short, flimsy dress of silk and matching sandals was a monumental task.

  This was ridiculous. She hurt all over.

  “Damn you, Adrian.” This had his interference written all over it.

  “Cursing me?” The sound of his deep, sexy voice jerked her head up allowing a prickly sensation to rush down her neck. An imposing figure, he stood at the top of the stairs staring down at her with an expression of anger on his handsome face. The downward dip of his full lips was a dead giveaway he wasn’t happy with her. He confirmed her suspicion when he said, “What the fuck were you thinking?” The deep reprimanding growl set her on edge.

  “Thinking?” she repeated skimming her gaze from his booted feet, up tight fitting jeans that gave her pause at a rather impressive bulge, and a T-shirt that molded his chest like it was making love to him. Cowboy hat pulled down low on his forehead

  “Oh, yeah. That’s right. You weren’t,” he lashed out like a whip. She felt the sting of his words. “Dammit, Fallon.” He yanked his hat off and ran his long fingers through his hair. “You could have gotten us all killed.”

  Understanding took second place to the pain she felt. She groaned, raising one foot and then another climbing toward him. Her calves hurt. Her thighs hurt. Every place on her body ached. When she finally spoke, exasperation laced her words. “Adrian, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  His frown deepened. “You don’t remember attacking Chavez?”

  She felt her eyes pop open, as she pulled to a stop halfway up the stairs. “Me?” Her sandals flapped against the next step as she moved toward him.

  He stepped back as she reached the final stair and let her pass. “Yeah. You.” His warm breath caressed the side of her neck awakening her hunger. Damn he looked good, smelled good too, masculine heat warmed by his temper. And he was definitely in a snit this evening.

  “All I remember is Doreen— Oh my God.” She spun around to face him, sending another ache from one extremity to the other. “Is she okay?”

  Adrian’s expression hardened. “She didn’t make it. I was too late to save her.”

  The news of the woman’s death sent a chill through her veins.

  Chavez had killed another innocent person.

  Unshed tears ached behind her eyelids. Would the pain and suffering the demon inflicted ever stop?

  Fallon reached out to Adrian wanting and needing to console him, but he shunned her grasp and headed down the hall. She attempted to touch his mind, but she met a wall of resistance.

  At a loss for what to say, she murmured, “I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t remember anything about last night?” He brushed her sympathy off by redirecting the subject. But she knew what his people meant to him. He was suffering, even if he did so in silence and alone.

  Yes. She remembered Doreen’s panic-stricken expression as death hung over her, the cruelty in Chavez’s eyes, and the red-hot hatred she felt before everything went black.

  Did Adrian blame her for Doreen’s death?

  Still presenting her with his back as he briskly moved through the house, he huffed, “Well, darlin’, you didn’t wait for me to handle the situation.” He glanced over his shoulder. “You jumped headfirst into trouble and trouble’s what you got.” His breathy sigh held irony as he opened the kitchen door and stepped inside.

  Fallon’s emotions felt raw lying just below the surface. She hastened her steps to catch up with him. “Chavez got away? He isn’t dead?” Her questions were met with silence and a room full of weary eyes.

  Gary sat at the picnic table with Tucker, Briar, and Cougar. Maggie was consoling Crystal as she softly cried. Sally and Susan leaned quietly against the counter. The creak of the back screen door sounded as George entered, going straight to Susan and taking her into his arms.

  They mourned the loss of their friend.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss,” Fallon whispered.

  Sally approached her, gathering her hand in hers. “Doreen was a sweet girl. We’ll miss her.” She squeezed Fallon’s hand before releasing it.

  “Adrian, was your friend’s death my fault?” Fallon couldn’t stand the pause before he responded.

  “No. The damage Chavez did to her throat couldn’t be repaired. She lost too much blood.”

  “So Doreen was responsible for Billy’s abduction,” George stated matter-of-factly.

  “What?” Fallon couldn’t hide her surprise as her voice rose.

  With a hip against the refrigerator, his arms crossed over his chest, Adrian offered an explanation. “Evidently you and Doreen were both running from Chavez’s tyranny.”

  Before he could say more Crystal raised her head from Maggie’s shoulder. “I didn’t know what she intended to do. I swear.” Her eyes were red and swollen from tears that continued to flow down her cheeks. “When Doreen discovered Chavez was after Fallon, she panicked. She discovered something in Adrian’s blood that allowed her to shield herself from Chavez for the last ten years. But she knew Fallon was young, lacked the experience to avoid Chavez.” She gulped down a breath. “Doreen thought Billy’s disappearance would be blamed on Fallon or at least chase her away.” Remorse dulled the brunette’s eyes as she glanced at Fallon. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, I’m the one who should be apologizing.” Inadvertently, Fallon had
caused Doreen’s death. The fact sent chills down her spine. “If I hadn’t stayed none of this would have happened.”

  “Hush,” Sally admonished, “I don’t want to hear any more of that. What’s done is done.”

  “Sally’s right.” Adrian pushed away from the refrigerator and crossed the room. “No one leaves this house without my consent.” He spoke to everyone, but his eyes were pinned on Fallon.

  “Adrian—”

  He held up a single hand silencing her. “Fallon, not one step outside this door.”

  Damn. She hated it, but he was right. It went against her grain to let someone else fight her battles. Still, she wasn’t an idiot. Chavez was too powerful for her. She would be walking straight to her death or something worse if he caught her.

  Five steps and Adrian stood before the back door. “Now I need to speak with Cougar, Briar, Tucker, Gary and George.” As he opened it, the familiar creak appeared and a rush of clean night air filled the kitchen.

  Tucker was the last one out, but before he closed the door he turned toward Maggie. “No one leaves this house.”

  The redhead released a frustrated breath. “Damn man.”

  For a moment there was silence among the women. It seemed that everyone was at loss for words, until Sally said, “I have work to do.” She swiped her hands on a dish towel lying on the counter, reached for a canister and opened it to sprinkle a little flour on a cutting board. “How about I whip up some cinnamon rolls for tomorrow’s breakfast?”

  Susan turned to Fallon. “It quiets Mom’s nerves to cook.” She strolled to her mother’s side. “Let me help you.”

  “It’s been a while, but if you need more help I could probably manage rolling the dough,” Fallon offered. What else was she going to do confined to the house?

  “Sugar’s in the pantry. Brown sugar, too,” Susan added, as she opened a cabinet and retrieved a box of raisins, salt, and cinnamon.

  Maggie and Crystal took seats at the picnic table, remaining quiet.

  The distinctive smell of yeast added to warm water filled the kitchen as Sally began to prepare the dough. The gentle sounds of flour, sugar, and other ingredients being measured and placed in a bowl touched Fallon’s ears. With her heightened sense of smell she focused on the cinnamon, hot and spicy. There was something seductive about the scent which made her think of Adrian.

  Although he had stated Doreen’s death wasn’t her fault, why had he treated her so indifferently this evening?

  And what about Chavez? Where was he? And more importantly, when would he strike again?

  Apprehension skittered across her skin, but not paralyzing fear that crippled her so she couldn’t move.

  “No bad dreams this morning,” Susan stated cautiously glancing askance toward Fallon. Everyone else’s eyes followed. “Are you feeling better?”

  The woman was right.

  “Yes,” Fallon whispered, realizing for the first time in a year and a half she hadn’t dreamed of Christy nor had she awakened screaming or crying.

  Why?

  And why wasn’t she frozen with fear or overcome with rage when she thought of Chavez? Once again she wondered why she still felt the aches of last night’s events. Was it Adrian’s doings or Chavez’s?

  “Adrian will handle this man who seeks you,” Sally said with confidence. “You won’t have any more trouble after tonight.”

  True. If Adrian succeeded Fallon would be free. If he didn’t then she was dead—really dead. Either way she would be with Christy come the morning.

  Relief and sadness blended to a confusing level. Fallon was ready to confront Chavez, ready to put an end to the running and the anguish she felt. Even still something tugged at her heart when she thought of leaving Adrian.

  Damn if she hadn’t fallen in love with the man.

  The land shook and wept when Chavez and his minions emerged from it. Evil had a way of upsetting the natural balance of the elements. Adrian had felt the disturbance beneath his feet earlier, but he had been too far away to intercept them.

  Chavez was good. He covered his tracks well. But the vampire wouldn’t evade Adrian forever.

  For a moment, he stood quietly and listened to the soft chanting of the Apaches. The gentle breeze carried their voices, as well as the smell of burning pine from their campfires. Songs of healings and blessings echoed as they prayed to ancient spirits. The people of the White Mountains believed that beyond the physical world was the spirit world or the world of unseen powers. Harmony with nature and acceptance of that world were central to life. When harmony was out of balance, then life too was disproportionate.

  Peace was what they sought.

  But to achieve such, Adrian would have to rid the world of Chavez.

  “Three deaths have been reported.” Briar moved beside Adrian as he stared out into the forest. “Campers along White River. The brutality was so vicious it’s been attributed to a bear.”

  Anger rose swiftly in Adrian. It burned through his veins, heating his blood. Doreen. Now three more innocent people were dead. Chavez’s killing spree would not end. It was the vampire’s way of taunting Adrian—murdering in his territory.

  And with each kill Chavez’s power strengthened. Adrian could sense it growing.

  “I can’t allow this to go past tonight. We finish it before the sun rises.” His thoughts wandered toward Fallon, but he jerked them back in line. He had to stay focused, had to stay alert. He would not fail.

  Adrian sent mental tentacles across the land in search of Chavez. “Any news from Cougar?” Unrest cried upon the wind whistling through the trees. Their branches shook as if attempting to rid the evil that touched them.

  “Not yet,” Tucker replied, pulling his hat down low. “But all the vampires from around the valley have checked in. They’re alert and in place throughout the various towns, ready to mask any further carnage or to come to your aide if you need them.”

  Adrian could sense Tucker’s concern for Maggie. Adrian felt the same for Fallon, as well as all the people beneath his protection.

  Suddenly his tentacles of power struck something so evil that it shook Adrian to the core. Dark and menacing, he smelled the poisonous vapors thickening the air, felt the cold, sinister touch of Chavez.

  “It’s time.” Adrian released a weighted breath. “Let’s hunt.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Mommy.”

  The soft, familiar cry brought Fallon to her feet. Pain erupted across her bruised shoulder and other parts of her abused body. Her pulse sped with the thudding of her heart against her chest.

  Christy.

  “Mommy, I need you,” her daughter’s small voice cried. The sound was distant as if it came from beyond the brick and mortar of the house.

  “Mommy.”

  Goose bumps raced across Fallon’s arms as she rushed to the living room window and stared into the darkness. Palms against the cool glass, her warm breath fogged the window. The muscles in her stomach clenched.

  It was a trick—nothing more.

  She tried to convince herself, but the need to run out the front door and find Christy was strong—overpowering.

  “Is everything okay?” Maggie unfolded her legs from beneath her where she sat on the sofa reading a book. Crystal had gone to her room. Sally and Susan were icing the cinnamon rolls in the kitchen. Adrian and the others had never returned.

  “Huh?” Fallon faced Maggie. “Yeah. Everything’s okay.” But it wasn’t. Every nerve in Fallon’s body was alive and tingling.

  “Mommy!” Christy’s cry was sharp and brittle. “The bad man says he’ll hurt me again, if you don’t come to me now.”

  Fallon’s mouth parted on a gasp. Her eyes grew moist. The fear in her child’s trembling voice sounded so real, so compelling.

  Maggie set her book down on the coffee table and pushed to her feet. “No. Everything is not okay.” The woman’s face grew taut. Her hands trembled. “He’s here isn’t he?” Her voice dropped to where it was almo
st a whisper of anxiety. “We need to call Adrian.”

  Fallon’s internal struggle was pulling her in two directions. Her need to believe Christy was alive was so great, for a moment she started to disagree when—

  “Mi belleza, your daughter awaits you.” Chavez’s sexy Spanish accent called to Fallon.

  She cringed. What an idiot she was.

  “Mommy, please…” Fallon heard the desperation in Christy’s plea.

  She cupped her ears with her palms. “No, it isn’t real. Stop.”

  Maggie’s hand landed on her arm. “What? What isn’t real? Fallon, you’re scaring me.”

  “Mi belleza, it is real. She has always been waiting for you. Always within my care.”

  “Liar. She’s dead.” Anger flared hot and fast across Fallon’s cheeks. “You killed her, you fucking animal.”

  While Chavez used the mental link between them, Fallon spoke aloud, unaware of the result until a cry squeezed from Maggie’s lips.

  “I’m calling Adrian.” Maggie’s panicked tone joined Christy’s and Chavez’s voices in Fallon’s head. “Something’s wrong with Fallon. Chavez is near.”

  Adrian’s unyielding voice followed. “Stay put. Do not go outside.”

  Feeling reassured that Adrian was near gave Fallon determination. This was only a trick to coerce her beyond Adrian’s safety.

  Chavez’s laughter taunted her. “Lie. Far from a lie. Right now my fingers are stroking the strands of her silky hair.” Fallon heard him inhale deeply. “She smells so sweet…powdery like that of a baby.”

  The memory of the baby shampoo Christy insisted on using made Fallon’s knees buckle. “No.” Pain crashed against her kneecaps as she landed on the hard wood flooring.

  Maggie crouched, looping her arms around Fallon’s shoulders. “He can’t reach you here. Adrian’s safeguards are too strong. I’ll stay with you.”

  “Stop!” Christy screamed.

  Fallon jerked to her feet and out of Maggie’s embrace. Christy’s cries were small, broken whimpers tearing at Fallon’s heart.

  Trick. Christy was dead. Fallon had to remember. She had seen her daughter’s bloody, crumpled body on the floor of their apartment. No movement from her child, as Chavez had carried Fallon away kicking and screaming from their home. She had never seen Christy again.