Jeanne C. Stein - Retribution

by Jeanne C. Stein

  The girl I’d heard through the door has backed herself into a corner. She’s naked and her small, emaciated body looks frail in the dim light of the room.

  I face Jason, send out a probe. Let the girl go.

  There’s no response. Just a wild-eyed, creepy stare out of those onyx eyes.

  If you let the girl go, I won’t hurt you.

  Not exactly a lie. I’m not sure what kind of monster he is, but I don’t intend to hurt him. Exactly. I intend to kill him when I get the information I need.

  Still, no response. Nothing. Just like with the girls at the safe house, there’s no psychic connection.

  “Let the girl go.”

  That provokes a reaction. Jason reaches out and the girl rushes to him. He grabs her arm. She yelps as he pulls her close. “I asked you what you are.”

  The girl finds her own voice. “Kill it, Jason,” she screams. “You’re a vampire. Kill it.”

  Kill it? If I wasn’t so angry, I might find the situation funny. I take two steps. Jason pulls the girl closer, shielding his own body with hers.

  “Nice move, Jason. Very brave.” I grab his fingers and bend them back until he releases the girl. I spin her away from him. “Get your clothes on and get out.”

  She plants herself in front of me. “No. I want to be a vampire. Jason said—”

  I smack her across the face with the palm of my hand. “It’s not life he’s offering you,” I snarl. “Now get out.”

  She backs away, rubbing her cheek but still not making a move toward the pile of clothes at the foot of the bed. Maybe if I scare her enough, she’ll get the idea.

  I reach out and grab Jason by the neck, lifting him off his feet. I bite his cheek, tearing a piece of flesh from the bone and spitting it back at him.

  Jason is screaming and clutching at my hands with his own. I turn toward the girl, show her the beast, let her see and feel the full fury of my anger.

  That gets her moving. She grabs her clothes and runs out.

  I would have let her get dressed.

  Now that she’s gone, I turn my attention to Jason.

  “Where is Simone Tremaine?”

  He gasps and continues to snatch at my hands, finally croaking, “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

  I put my face close to his, lap at the blood on his ruined cheek. Whisper, “Think about it, Jason. The woman you’ve been turning girls for. The woman who bleeds them to death. Where is she?”

  I release my grip on his neck enough to allow him to speak.

  “Where is she?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Wrong answer. Guess I have to use a little more persuasion. You like to fuck?” I tighten my hold on his neck with one hand and grab his balls with the other. They’re slick with sweat and sticky with the girl’s sex. I can barely restrain a gag reflex.

  But I manage. My fingers tighten and squeeze. “Better think fast, Jason.”

  Jason flies into a full-blown panic. His legs flail, his face reddens and his breath comes in short, rasping gasps.

  And I’m not even squeezing hard yet.

  “Please. Stop.”

  The hammering of his heart thunders in my ears. I’m afraid he’s going to have a heart attack. Reluctantly, I relent.

  I release him and he falls to the floor, curling into a fetal position, using one hand to cover his head and the other his genitals. I give him a second to catch his breath, then haul his ass up and throw him on the bed.

  “I’m not going to waste any more time with you. Get your pants on. We’re going to see a friend of mine. Between us, I’m sure we’ll find a way to loosen your tongue.”

  Jason looks up at me but makes no move to get up.

  “Did you hear me? I said get dressed.”

  His eyes have morphed back into a human’s and his fangs retracted until they no longer peek through his lips. The expression on his face is pure terror. “I can’t go outside.”

  “You can and will.” I grab his arm, give it a shake. “Unless you want me to carry you out naked and throw you into the trunk of my car, you’ll get moving now.”

  “I can’t.” He pulls away and scoots himself back until he’s huddled against the headboard. “I’m a vampire.”

  “I don’t know what you are,” I say. “But if it’s vampire, you can and will go outside. One way or the other.”

  His eyes dart to the door. “The sun. I can’t go outside from sunrise to sunset.”

  “Get with the program, moron. Vampires adapted to the sun centuries ago.” I pull the curtains back. The rain has stopped and a weak sun peaks through storm-tossed clouds. I hold out my hand and expose it to the light. “See? No problem. Now quit stalling.”

  He makes no move to comply. I’m done fucking around. I reach across the bed and yank him to his feet. “Don’t say I didn’t give you the chance to ride in front.”

  He struggles against me, but his strength is no match for my own. I snatch up a pair of jeans from a nearby chair and thrust them at him. “You can put these on in the trunk.”

  He’s yelling at me to stop, but I ignore him. I’ll take him to the park and work on him there. I’ll bring Williams the syringe. Maybe if he has that analyzed, it will be a clue to Burke’s whereabouts.

  At the doorway, I give Jason a shove that propels him through the door and into the daylight.

  He stumbles once, and turns toward me. His hands fly to his face, letting the jeans fall. His eyes have turned again. It’s the last thing I notice before his body explodes like a camera flash in a burst of white-hot light.

  CHAPTER 36

  THE SMELL OF SULFUR DRIFTS ON A GUST OF WIND. A smell and a pile of ash. It’s all that’s left of Jason Shelton.

  Reflexively, I jump back. Even seeing what happened, I can’t wrap my head around it. I stare at the crumpled pair of jeans that a moment ago was clutched in Jason’s hands.

  Jason said he was a vampire. Yet I had no connection with him psychically. He was certainly not as strong as any other vampire I’ve come in contact with. The girls he turned for Burke seem to have no powers, either. Now this. Will the same thing happen to them if they step into the sun?

  God. I’d better warn Rose.

  I step gingerly around the spot where Jason stood. I’d have killed him in a heartbeat once I got Burke’s whereabouts from him. But this is the second vampire immo lation I’ve seen in two days. Ortiz’ death was horrible enough but I understood it. This is completely beyond my comprehension.

  My hand shakes when I try to fit the key in the Jag’s ignition. I don’t know whether to call Rose or Williams first. I do decide to wait until I’m away from the apartment to do it. I pull over on a side street a mile away.

  The sight of Jason spontaneously combusting the moment he stepped into daylight has my heart pounding.

  What was he? A vampire subspecies?

  I pull the paper Williams gave me yesterday with Rose’s address on it. He’d also jotted a phone number and I punch it into my cell phone. Rose picks up on the second ring. Her “hello” resonates with worry and ratchets my own anxiety up a notch.

  “Rose, this is Anna. What’s wrong?”

  Her voice is shaking. “I don’t know what’s happening. They’re dying, Anna. Three this morning. I thought they were all getting stronger.”

  “Which three?” I’m thinking of Rebecca and how she clutched at my hand.

  “Three of the weaker. We had a steady supply of hosts for them. They were feeding. But something happened. They grew weaker instead of stronger. Then, this morning, they started dying.”

  A picture of Jason bursting into flame flashes through my head. “How, Rose? How did they die?”

  Rose’s breath catches. “I don’t know. They were feeding. Then they just stopped. It was as if their hearts gave out. They were alive one minute and dead the next. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  Different from Jason. Because they weren’t exposed directly to sunlight? I remember the
room and the large windows.

  “I’ll come over. But I have to talk to Williams first. Rose, don’t let them go outside. And keep the curtains pulled. Better yet, take them all to the back room.”

  “Why?”

  “They’re not like us. I don’t know why, but they can’t be exposed to daylight.”

  “That makes no sense.” But her tone is halting.

  “Trust me. None of this makes sense. Just please, keep it dark.”

  She draws a quick, sharp breath. “God, Anna. The curtains are open now. The ones who died were in the living room—closest to the windows.”

  She clicks off without saying good-bye.

  I don’t have to guess why.

  WILLIAMS IS UNCHARACTERISTICALLY QUIET WHEN I call him next to fill him in on the events of the morning. He has no explanation for what happened to Jason or how daylight could have affected the girls who died. I tell him about the syringe I found in Jason’s apartment.

  Maybe whatever Jason used to sedate the girls after he changed them is the reason for their weaknesses. Williams agrees to meet me at the park. He’s with Brooke now but says he can be there within fifteen minutes. I ask him to have the witches try another locator spell, and he says that he will. With Ortiz’ death, he never got around to asking them yesterday. His voice is heavy with guilt.

  I should care that he forgot. Should rail at him for forgetting Culebra. But he had other things on his mind.

  Ortiz.

  A rare moment of compassion stills my tongue and I hang up without rancor.

  I’ve never felt so helpless. It’s been three days since Culebra fell under Burke’s curse. I’m afraid to call Frey for an update. He’s put his life on hold and his own health at risk. If I don’t come up with something fast, I may lose two friends.

  Williams is at the elevator when I step out. The bank of telephone operators that occupies the center of the supernatural command center is bustling with activity. The telephones are manned by an army of psychics, real psychics, extraordinary men and women possessing heightened sensitivity to things outside the sphere of scientific knowledge. Their clients include the power brokers of the world.

  Today, however, I detect a different timbre to the buzz of conversation. What’s going on?

  He steers me away from center. I have our people working to locate Burke. If the witches can’t find her, maybe someone else can.

  He’s set the psychics on Burke? His guilt that another night may have brought Culebra that much closer to death is showing. No matter. I’ll take all the help I can get.

  He pushes open a door to a side room. The same three witches I met two days ago are assembled around the same pentagram. A map is laid out and one of the women, Min Liu, dangles that diamond on the end of the silken string. As I watch, the diamond jumps and skitters across the map but it fails to light on any particular location. Frustration is painted on Min’s face. The other two watch, each holding a candle and chanting in low voices.

  Susan Powers looks up when we enter. She touches the young Hispanic woman’s arm. Ariela Acosta motions us in.

  “It’s not working, is it?” I ask.

  Min lets the charm drop. “I’m sorry. The witch is protecting herself.”

  “She’s put up a powerful blocking spell,” Susan says. “There is nothing we can do.”

  I sink into a chair and cover my face with my hands.

  Culebra is fighting for his life.

  Ortiz is dead.

  It’s my fault.

  I should never have confronted the witch at the restaurant. It only alerted her to the fact that I was on to her. Now she’s gone into hiding and I’ve exhausted any lead I might have had to find her.

  There’s a knock on the door. Williams answers it and a man hands him a slip of paper. He opens it, looks over at me and shakes his head.

  Even his army of psychics has drawn a blank.

  Weariness washes over me. I feel the anxiety and unhappiness of the three women standing nearby. Their empathy only heightens my own sense of futility.

  I can’t think of anything else to say. I pull the charm from inside my blouse. “You may as well have this back.”

  Min stays my hand with a touch of her own. “No. Keep it.” Her eyes flash with determination. “Don’t give up, Anna. We don’t intend to.”

  Williams is watching, too, strangely silent.

  These women don’t know me, but he does. He understands how foreign this is to me.

  For the first time in a long time I don’t know what to do. No idea. No plan. No way to save Culebra.

  Williams leaves me alone in the room while he escorts the witches out. Jason is gone. The file is gone. Burke is gone.

  I wish once again that I had done things differently—made a copy of the test subjects’ information instead of stealing the original file. That act set in motion all that followed, including Ortiz’ death.

  I have one last hope. Maybe Gloria has a contact number for Simone Tremaine.

  But that hope is dashed when the operator at the Four Seasons tells me that Gloria has checked out—on her way to Europe for Fashion Week.

  Gloria wasted no time coming up with alternative photo opportunities now that the launch party for Eternal Youth has been canceled.

  Either that or she wants to distance herself, literally, from the fallout of an arson investigation.

  Shit. Arson will be the least of Gloria’s concerns if the cream is linked to the murder of those test subjects.

  Williams comes back. His black mood matches my own, partly because of the helplessness we feel and partly because of the guilt. It puts us both on guard.

  “How is Brooke doing?” I ask finally.

  “Barely making it. I wish I could do more. Ortiz will be buried with full honors on Friday.”

  Buried is a euphemism. We both know there is nothing left of Ortiz to bury. I feel cold, suddenly, remembering.

  “It’s a good gesture. Ortiz deserves it.”

  My mind drifts back to Jason. I remember the syringe. I pull it out of a jacket pocket. “I don’t know what this is. I think Jason was about to use it on the girl he had in his apartment. The girls at Rose’s all said they’d been sedated. Maybe this stuff is the reason they’re different.”

  Williams takes it from my outstretched hand. “I’ll send it to the lab.” He steps aside when I stand and start for the door. “What are you going to do now?”

  The only thing left for me to do.

  “I’m going to see Culebra. And Frey.”

  “What will you tell them?”

  I close my eyes and turn away. I don’t know what I’ll tell them. I’m afraid it might be good-bye.

  CHAPTER 37

  THE LINE AT THE BORDER CROSSING IS LONG. I’M stalled behind twenty cars waiting to be waved through.

  I don’t mind. I’m in no hurry.

  I drum my fingertips against the steering wheel, replaying everything that’s happened since Sandra’s call Sunday night.

  Every mistake. Every blunder. Every miscalculation.

  Following Burke to that restaurant. Revealing myself to her.

  Stupid mistake number one.

  Breaking into the warehouse the first time. I could have copied every fucking file in the place. Why didn’t I? Instead, I memorized useless information. Burke knew that I’d be looking for her. How could I have thought she’d hang around that house in Coronado waiting for me? Learning the names of her employees and those test subjects would have been far more valuable.

  Stupid mistake number two.

  A driver behind me honks. I restrain the urge to flip him off and roll a foot or so forward.

  My head aches.

  One hundred test subjects. Three dead. In all the confusion, I’d forgotten to ask Williams if he’d seen the coroner’s reports. Maybe when I get back, I’ll call him.

  Maybe.

  If Culebra dies, I won’t really care what killed them.

  The before-and-after shots of t
he three dead women flash through my brain like a slide show. The transformation was incredible. Vampire blood had that effect? I wonder if they’d have been as happy with the results if they’d known the price those young girls paid for their vanity. Twelve vampires dead. Would they have cared?

  I mentally sift through everything I found in Burke’s file—insurance forms, utility bills—there was something else, wasn’t there?

  I slam into reverse, forcing the guy behind me to back up. He’s yelling and waving a fist at me, but I keep at him, pushing him back until I have room to make the U-turn.

  When I pull out of line, I give him my sweetest smile and wave farewell.

  I remember what else was in Burke’s file. There was a telephone number. No name. No address. Just a number.

  I’m driving with one hand on the wheel, the other rummaging through my purse.

  Where is that damned cell phone?

  My fingers finally close around it. I let the number float to the surface of my consciousness and punch it in. It rings once, twice, ten times. No answer. No machine.

  Shit.

  The next call I make is to Williams. I catch him on his way back to Brooke’s.

  “I just remembered something that was in Burke’s personal file. Can you do a reverse search on a telephone number?” I ask. “Get me a name and an address?”

  He doesn’t question the request, just says, “What is it?”

  I recite the number. “Will you call me as soon as you have the information?”

  “Hang on.” The line goes silent as he puts me on hold for nearly a minute. I’m starting to get angry when he clicks back on.

  “It’s a Denver number. Meet me at the airport.”

  “The airport? Why? Is it listed to Burke?”

  “Just meet me there.” Williams rings off.

  A Denver number?

  If it’s a Denver number, maybe I’m wrong about its significance. Maybe it doesn’t belong to Burke.

  Maybe I’m wrong again.

  I get back on the freeway and head west. Why would Williams want to meet me at the airport? He must have a reason. What isn’t he telling me?

  I call Frey’s cell next.