Arctic Fire

by Erica Stevens

  “Maybe,” Quinn replied, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away from the window.

  CHAPTER 20

  For the next three nights, whenever Quinn would close the bar, he would go out to the desert and pace. The others would remain in the truck, watching him as he ran through the sand, trying to keep himself from going back to Quinn.

  He would wait with his senses as attuned to Quinn as he could get them. He checked the tracking on his phone almost every minute to make sure she was still at the bar. At the end of the night, Quinn would call him to let him know she had returned home without incident. She’d begun making comments about ditching Dani, Hawtie, and Clint too, or at least Dani, but he’d adamantly refused.

  On the fourth night, he couldn’t take the idea of returning to the desert and the endless pacing anymore. “We’re going to the ranch,” he said brusquely to Luther who was sitting behind the wheel of the truck.

  “What ranch?” Luther asked.

  “The one where Jeb and his crew were having trouble.”

  “Do you know where it is?”

  “Clint told me it’s about five miles that way,” he pointed down the road past Hawtie’s and in the opposite direction of the ghost town where he and Quinn had killed the other vampires. “He said it’s called The Rising Moon Ranch. We’ll see the sign for it.”

  “You’re willing to go that far away from her?”

  Julian’s teeth ground together; he glanced through the window of Clint’s Bar. He could see Dani, Clint, and Quinn cleaning up. Hawtie sat at the end of the bar doing the books for her strip club. Quinn laughed at something Dani said and threw her rag at her. The smile on her face made his heart clench.

  “We have to do something,” he grated.

  Luther shifted the truck into drive. Julian grabbed hold of the side and launched himself over and into the truck bed. He landed silently beside Melissa and Chris. Resting his hand on the roof, he kept himself braced as Luther pulled out of the parking lot and drove through the main road of the small town. His gaze remained latched on Quinn through the window of the bar until she faded from view.

  The cool wind blew against his skin as he turned to face forward in the truck. He shivered against the cold. When this was over, he was taking Quinn somewhere near the equator for a relaxing vacation of endless nights and days with only each other.

  He narrowed his eyes against the stinging wind as he watched the dark ribbon of road unfolding before them. In less than a mile, the businesses and homes comprising the main stretch of town faded away, and they were left with only the moon, stars, and headlights to guide them. The endless rise and fall of the dunes spread out all around. The stark beauty of it wasn’t lost upon him, but the clawing sensation to return to Quinn made it difficult for him to focus on anything other than getting to the ranch.

  After a few more minutes, Julian spotted a wooden sign on the side of the road with The Rising Moon Ranch, written on it. Kneeling, he knocked on the back window and pointed to it. “Stop at the edge of the drive!” he called to Luther.

  Luther pulled onto the dirt drive and parked the truck.

  “I know Jeb said they weren’t having any more trouble, but I think it would be better if we go on foot from here,” Julian said as he leapt out of the back of the truck. “Don’t need to announce our presence with an engine, if we don’t have to.”

  The others climbed out of the truck to join him. “I’ll go ahead. If I see anything threatening, I’ll come back and let you know. I’ll also take care of the cameras as I go. Move the truck down the road and find a place to park it out of sight.”

  Before they could respond, he turned and loped down the drive, pouring on the speed as he raced toward the ranch. He’d remain undetected by the cameras he saw amongst the Joshua trees planted beside the drive, but the others wouldn’t. Moving behind each camera, he leapt up or climbed the trees until he was high enough to tear the cameras from them. He ground each one beneath his boot before racing to the next one.

  He listened for the small, tinging noise each camera made as he moved. No human would hear the noise, but it alerted him to a few well-hidden cameras he might have missed if he hadn’t been searching for it.

  Toward the end of the drive, another sign stretched from two wooden beams over the road. The name of the ranch was sprawled across the large board in the middle. Julian slowed when the massive main house came into view. It had been built to resemble a log cabin that could rival some of the ski lodges he’d seen in his lengthy life.

  Cactuses and colorful rocks decorated the main landscape surrounding the wraparound porch. Lights shone in the lower windows, but he didn’t detect any heartbeats, nor did he scent any life inside the home.

  To the right of the house was a smaller building with glass windows all around it. As he neared it, he detected the scent of sawdust from recent construction work on the building. Glancing in one of the windows, he spotted a rolling chair set up before a large desk with TV monitors. The black TV screens shone in the light overhead.

  He pulled his phone out to make sure Quinn was still at the bar before lifting his head to scan for more cameras in the few trees around him. Moving rapidly around the property, he tore down the rest of the cameras he heard and saw around the perimeter of the property. He smashed them all before returning to the security shack.

  Circling toward the back of the main house, he slid down a small hill and stopped to take in the barns and pastures tucked behind the home. Acres of green land sprawled out as far as he could see. In the center of all the rolling pastures, fences, and wooden shelters for the animals, a lake shimmered in the moonlight. He didn’t know if the lake was natural or if it had been dug to collect the scarce rainwater and more water was piped into the ranch from somewhere else.

  His gaze scanned the horizon. His nostrils flared as he tried to detect any odor beside that of the animals and blood on the air. The stringent aroma of bleach made his lip curl. The humans must have used it to clean up after the animals were slaughtered.

  He continued around the main house, his gaze raking over the horizon, but nothing stirred in the night. There weren’t even any desert animals creeping in to steal some water. The vampires have decimated the wild animals in this area too, he realized. His blood felt colder than the night air blowing around him.

  How many of them are out there?

  His hand twitched toward his phone; he fought the impulse to call Devon and tell him to bring an army here. Cassie can’t be here, he reminded himself. He’d die for Quinn without thinking twice about it, but if Cassie ever fell into the wrong hands, it would be even more disastrous than having Quinn fall into the hands of someone who knew about the prophecy.

  Over the years, he’d considered himself one of the most selfish bastards on the planet. At one time, he wouldn’t have cared about what the consequences would be for others, but not anymore. He couldn’t risk the lives of everyone he cared about and many other innocents by involving Cassie in this. His hand fell back to his side. He closed his eyes against the anger and frustration warring within him.

  The smell of Chris and Melissa alerted him to their presence before he heard their footsteps on the hill behind him.

  “Wow,” Chris breathed, his eyes fixed on the lake and rolling green pastures. “It’s like an oasis back here.”

  “Beautiful,” Melissa murmured before turning to him. “Do you sense anything?”

  Julian shook his head, his gaze raking the horizon again. “I sense no life out here.”

  “That just made my skin crawl,” Chris muttered. “What does that mean?”

  “I believe there’s a lot of vampires,” Julian murmured and ran his hand through his hair. “More than I’d anticipated, and they’re feasting.”

  “But if he’s changing vamps and turning them to his will, there would be more deaths reported in the area, not only the Kemps,” Melissa said.

  “The Kemps were a message to Quinn, to all of us,” Julian muttered. �
�This isn’t a message. This is a mission.”

  “The vamps that killed Angie were slaughtering illegal aliens in order to go undetected by law enforcement. Could he be doing the same, but turning them instead?” Chris asked.

  “He could,” Julian replied, “but I’m not sure he’s created the vampires who are here. I think he may have brought them in or perhaps someone else has, and they’re all working together to try and get at Quinn. When he goes to turn vamps again, he’ll go after people Quinn will notice missing, like the ones at the bonfire. He’s trying to make a point.”

  “That he’s batshit crazy?” Chris asked.

  “Yes, and he can get at people close to her, no matter what we do.”

  Turning away from them, Julian walked the rest of the way around the house. On the other side of the building were five smaller log cabins. Behind the cabins was another larger building. For the ranch hands, he realized. The full-time help had their own little homes in these smaller cabins, but when more help was required, the bigger building was also utilized.

  He cautiously approached the smaller cabins to peer into one of the windows. Shadows danced across the walls of the small kitchen and living room, but the orderly home looked untouched. He climbed back down the stairs and around to the larger building as Luther and Lou descended the hill toward them.

  “This place gives creepy a whole new meaning,” Lou said as he joined them.

  Julian pulled his phone out; Quinn was still at the bar. He hit her number as he walked up the steps of the porch. She picked up on the first ring.

  “Still at Clint’s. Everything okay?”

  His shoulders relaxed at the sound of her voice. “Just checking in.”

  “Should be home in half an hour.”

  “Call me when you get there.”

  “Will do. Love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  He’d expected some wiseass comment from one of the others about his final words to her when he hung up, but they were all focused on the large building before them. Melissa’s head fell back to peer at the roof above their heads. “I don’t know why, but I don’t like this place.”

  Julian slid his phone into his pocket and scented the air. Like the other, non-residential buildings on the property, it smelled strongly of bleach with an undercurrent of blood. Julian couldn’t think of a good reason why the ranch hands would have scrubbed this place with bleach, or why it would stink so much of blood.

  He grabbed hold of Chris’s arm when he grabbed for the knob. “Something’s not right in there.”

  Chris glanced between him and the door before pulling the crossbow off his back and raising it before him. The others all pulled their stakes and weapons free and braced themselves.

  “What if there’s an alarm?” Melissa inquired.

  “If there is, we’ll be out of here before the police arrive,” Julian replied.

  “Will you be able to enter?” Lou asked him.

  “This place may have residents occasionally, but no one calls it home.”

  Julian nodded toward Luther then the door. Luther moved in between Chris and the building. Grabbing the door handle, he shoved the door open. A series of small beeps sounded, but no alarm blared as Julian swept inside.

  “Why wasn’t the door locked and the alarm on?” Lou asked.

  “Whatever is in here, someone wants us to see it,” Julian replied as he moved further into the building.

  The scent of blood was more potent inside; it tickled his nostrils and pricked his fangs. Beneath the blood, he detected the stringent aroma of cleaning chemicals and sweaty men. The faint smell of livestock from the worker’s clothing also lingered.

  “Stay close to me,” he commanded the others.

  He walked through the kitchen and into what he assumed was the dining room because of the hutch and breakfast bar, but there was no table or chairs in the room. Instead, two twin beds were set up within. A chill slid down his back as he stared at the neatly made beds. He didn’t think the beds had been placed here because the hands had required more sleeping space. He didn’t know why they were in this room, but he was certain they’d find out before they left.

  “What is going on here?” Melissa whispered.

  “This is the part in the horror movie when you start screaming at the people in it to run,” Chris replied. “And then call them idiots for staying.”

  “I think you’re right,” she said.

  So did Julian, but he continued past the dining room and into the living room. It took up half of the building. Three large TVs, a pool table, foosball table, and a bar were set up within the room for the workers. His gaze swept over the paneled walls and wooden floors as he moved through the space, but he saw no evidence of blood anywhere.

  Coming back around to the front door, he peered up the stairs to the second floor before jerking his head toward it. He kept his back pressed against the wall as he crept up the stairs. His ears strained to hear any noise other than the solid thumps of the hearts behind him. The wall across from him blocked his view of what lay beyond until he was nearly to the top of the stairs.

  The scent of blood became more cloying here, but he still saw no sign of it. Two twin beds in the hall upstairs came into view. His hand wrapped around the banister as he continued upward. Chris’s breath was warm against his neck, his breathing silent from all of his years of training to be a lethal killer of vampires. Melissa was just as quiet, and Luther and Lou wouldn’t have been detected by anything other than their heartbeats to a vampire.

  Julian rounded the corner upstairs and walked down the hall toward the room at the end. Turning the knob, he shoved the door open with the toe of his boot. The potent scent of blood hit him like a punch to the face. Staying low, he moved swiftly into the room, searching for a threat that he still couldn’t see.

  Rising to his full height, his eyes latched onto the macabre scene in the corner of the room. He assumed this had been a bedroom, but there were no beds within. Instead, there was only two dressers and the missing dining room table and chairs. Propped into the chairs surrounding the table, a family sat staring at the food before them.

  Moving closer, Julian realized the mother and father had silverware clasped within their hands. The duct tape wrapped around them kept their fists closed around the forks and knives. The two young girls had their heads bent toward each other, but he couldn’t see their faces as their backs were to him. The young boy across the table had his head propped up and turned toward the doorway.

  “One minute Barry was opening the front door, and the next thing I knew they were on us,” he remembered Quinn once saying to him. His gaze slid back toward the door through which he’d entered, past the others gawking at the scene before him.

  He realized that Barry had been watching the door before the vampires had knocked on it. He’d been waiting for them to arrive, had known they were coming.

  Quinn probably wouldn’t have noticed such a detail at the time, but if her stalker had been watching them from outside, he would have seen Barry waiting. Disgust and unease twisted through him as he walked around the table to see the two girls. His eyes were drawn to the young girl wearing a golden locket that looked far too much like the one Quinn wore. He recalled that she hadn’t worn the locket until after Betsy died; it had been her cousin’s before then.

  So that girl was supposed to be Betsy, he deduced, and the one next to her was supposed to be Quinn. He braced himself before he turned his gaze toward the other girl. Facial structure wise, she looked a little like Quinn with her high cheekbones and full lips, but her nose was larger and her cloudy eyes were blue. She had a jagged slice from her temple across to her right eyebrow; another one ran from her lip to under her chin. The well of blood from the gashes let him know they’d been inflicted while the girl was still alive.

  Both of the girls appeared to be in their teens and looked as if they were talking in conspiring whispers as they leaned toward each other. Both of them were smiling
. However, the smiles weren’t real. They’d been carved into their faces, Joker style, to reveal the cheek muscle. Goose bumps broke out on his arms; he couldn’t bring himself to tear his gaze away from the one who was supposed to be Quinn.

  The others crept closer as he studied the scene. “Is their hair dyed?” Melissa asked in a harsh whisper.

  Julian glanced at the head before him. The boy’s body had been tied into the chair with a rope, as had all the others, but a nail had been driven through the back of his skull. A piece of rope ran from the nail to the chair in order to keep the head tilted back. Judging by the amount of blood it was another wound received while still alive.

  Through all of the dark hair, he saw splotches of dye against the boy’s skull and strands of gold that hadn’t taken to the dye. He walked to the father and spotted the same thing amongst his hair. “It is,” he confirmed.

  Melissa rubbed her hands over her arms. “Why does that make this somehow worse?”

  Julian didn’t know the answer, but the exquisite attention to detail that monster had paid to this scene was something he understood. He’d once enjoyed taunting and torturing people too. Minus the children, this was something he would have done in the past in order to play with and torment someone.

  Nothing drove a person madder than the loss of their loved ones in an atrocious way, and if he’d fixated on someone good and pure, he would do everything in his power to drive them mad before destroying them. He’d played the game often over the centuries.

  This scene had been set up for Quinn, to unnerve her and upset her, but thankfully, she hadn’t been here for it. It had been set for him too. He may not know who this vampire was, but the man was aware of who he was, and the vamp was letting him know that and reminding him of his past with this display. Julian’s nails dug into his palms; they tore through his flesh to spill his blood.

  He’d never felt sorry or guilty about his past; he couldn’t change it, but for the first time, he wished he’d been someone better, someone good. He’d helped to bring this level of maliciousness and lunacy against them by the deeds he’d once committed. If this prick knew half of what Julian had done over the centuries and planned to use it to taunt him, then there were a lot more fun times ahead.