On the other side of the door someone said to another, “Will you cut that out? I told you not to spook her. Hey! Hey, Sid! It’s me, Russ Davenport. You know, the journalist.”
“Hello, Russ. What’s going on with this late-night call? It’s four a.m.”
“I’m an early riser and figured you and Smoke probably were too. Uh, sorry. But seriously, can we talk? You know I wouldn’t come here unless I had to.”
“I didn’t realize you knew where we lived. It strikes me kinda funny, Russ. Care to explain that?”
“Er, Google Earth? Come on, you know we’re on the same team. Right?”
With the gun barrel pointed at chest level, she opened the door. A big black man wearing denim practically filled the frame. His head was shaved. He had a mean look and an ugly scar under his chin. His eyes widened as much as his smile when he got a full look at her. He said in a deep voice, “Good morning, ma’am.”
“Russ, what are you doing with this guy?”
“He found me, said he had some good information. He does.”
“Give me a second.” She closed the door. Until that guy’s eyes popped, she had forgotten she was in her skimpy summer sleepwear. She found a pair of jeans and slipped them on under one of Smoke’s large T-shirts. Putting her hair in a ponytail, she opened the door again. “Come in, but don’t make yourself at home.” She watched the big man wander inside. His eyes searched all over the room. “Cort Calhoun, I was wondering when you’d show up again.”
“I leave that impression on a lot of people. I like it.” Finishing his lookover, he said, “Quaint.”
Russ poured himself a cup of coffee. The heavyset reporter wore a beige raincoat that enhanced his shabby appearance. He drank and said, “Good coffee.”
“What did I say about not getting too comfortable?” She took the coffee away from Russ. Calhoun started to sit down on a barstool, but she pulled it away. “I’m serious. What do you want?”
Cort Calhoun hadn’t been around in a while. The fallen FBI agent had been following Smoke and Sid at one time like a bloodhound, but he’d dropped out of sight. His reemergence had an uncanny feel to it. “I don’t even know why I let you in here.”
“Ladies can’t resist my Southern charm. So where’s Smoke?”
“He’s out, you know, doing his thing?” She poured Russ’s coffee into the sink.
“Hey!” Russ said. “Boy, I expected a little more courtesy.” He picked up the copy of Nightfall D.C. “Being a world-famous journalist and all.”
“Get real.”
“I was real, back when I started.” Russ opened the paper, hiding his face, and gave it a snap. “I had awards, accolades, popularity, women. I was top flight. Then I got a feel for what was really happening and how no one wanted to report—”
Sid snatched the paper away from him. “I don’t care. Just tell me what you want.”
“We’d like to share it with Smoke too.”
Sid’s hands got a little clammy. The way both men weren’t looking at her wasn’t right. She was being vetted. “Listen, boys. Put your cards on the table or get out.”
Russ gave Calhoun a nod. “Go ahead.”
Calhoun reached inside the pocket of his denim jacket, revealing a large six-shooter strapped to his hip. He pulled out a packet and tossed it on the table.
Eyes on Calhoun, she said, “That’s a big piece of hardware you’re carrying. Shot any polar bears with it?”
“Ah, you like my Ruger Alaskan, huh? Big man. Big gun. I haven’t shot any polar bears, but I’ve shot worse things, thanks to you and your partner—or husband, rather.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’ve seen ’em,” Calhoun said. “And they’ve seen me. I about died the last time. Then I came across this clown’s paper and everything came together. I started following you and Smoke a little more, but I kept my distance. I watched, waited, and learned.” He tipped his chin at the packet on the table. “Look.”
Sid picked up the photograph packet. Leaning back against the bar so she could keep an eye on her visitors, she opened it up. Inside were photos of a black SUV. The windows were down on one side. Her fingers tingled when she saw Smoke and her sister, Allison, getting out of the car at an airfield. “When did you take these?”
Calhoun held his fingers up and made rain, saying, “The same night you brought that building down. I tailed you until you hit that road off the main drag, but I stayed on the main drag. I saw that same car go in and come out. On a hunch, I followed. Sure enough, I wind up at a small airfield and out comes that gorgeous lady and Smoke. The creepy fella came out too. Looked like Ric Flair on super steroids.” He picked up one of the pictures Sid had set on the table. It was a picture of Kane. “That’s one mean, ugly dude.”
Furious, Sid said, “Why did you wait so long to tell me this?”
“Because I just figured out where they landed.”
“I’m FBI. I could have figured that out days ago.”
Calhoun shook his head. “You forget I’m FBI too, and according to my connections—and believe me, I still have plenty—that plane never landed and never took off from where it started. It’s a ghost.”
Russ butted in. “Transylvania Airlines.”
Shaking her head, she said, “Please don’t tell me he’s in Transylvania.”
“No,” Calhoun said. His grin broadened. “That’s just what we call it. The plane landed in Las Vegas.”
“All roads lead to Vegas,” Russ said with some shady emphasis.
“That doesn’t make any sense.” Sid pushed her sleeves up over her elbows. Still studying the pictures, she drummed her fingernails on the counter. “The Drake is based here. This is the power station. Why Vegas?”
“There are plenty of strange stories in Vegas too, you know.” Russ sauntered over to her computer desk and moved the mouse until the monitors flickered on. “They just don’t get reported on because there are so many other distractions in Vegas. But this eerie stuff is going on there, too.”
“I’m not buying it.” Sid fished through the pictures. “Do you have any idea where they went after that?”
Calhoun tipped his chin. “I made some calls. You see, there are people whom I would like to believe are on our side of things. Anyway, they track these planes. Thanks to the web, eyes are everywhere these days. I don’t care who you are, someone is watching—and they might even be six thousand miles away. It’s just like those UFO and storm watchers. Geeks are into these things. So I did my own homework on the dark web and was impressed with what I found.”
Taking a drink of coffee, Sid said, “You know, you’re smarter than you look.”
“This big melon of mine isn’t just good looks, it’s filled with knowledge.”
The office chair in front of the computer desk groaned. Russ was slouched over the keyboard. His heavy fingers pecked at the keys.
“Hey!” Sid marched over. “That’s password protected. What do you think you’re doing?”
“Was password protected.” Russ kept typing. Different images popped up on the computer monitors. “I’m really good at guessing passwords.”
She started forward, ready to rip him out of the chair. “Get off of there—” Sid’s eyes froze on one of the screens, where a video played. Rough-handed men wearing peacoats were scuttling a rangy man with a powerful build into a black hearse. A range of desert mountains loomed in the stark evening background. The imprisoned man’s face was covered in a cloth sack. Sid knew the body as well as her own. It was Smoke’s.
CHAPTER 4
Allison’s gentle fingertip traced the outline of Smoke’s face. Even her touch was a seductive fire. She was a powerful force, drawing him in. Purring in his ear with wet red lips, she said, “Let me just give you a taste of something you’ve never had. Let me waltz you to the threshold of the halls of decadence. You won’t regret it. You’ll have good sex for a change.”
“I wouldn’t know the difference between good sex and
bad. I’ve only been with one woman, and I plan on keeping it that way.”
With a swipe of her index finger, she wiped off the sweat that dripped down his temple. She tasted it. “So sweet. You are a passionate man, Smokey.” She squeezed his thigh. “Unleash that passion. Ravage me the way Kane ravaged Sid.”
His back straightened. He eyed her with growing lust.
“Yes, there’s no harm in it. Only delight.” She pulled her shoulders back and closed her eyes. “Take me.”
Smoke swallowed. His fingers clutched in and out. Allison was more than enticing. She was fresh meat to a ravenous wolf, ready to be devoured. With a dry throat, he said, “You witnessed it. I gave Sid my word to be faithful until death do us part. If you want to have sex with me, you’re just going to have to kill me.”
Allison’s eyes popped open. A storm brewed in her pupils. “What do you take me for, a necrophiliac?”
Smoke smiled. “You said it, not me.”
She slapped him hard. “I ought to rip your tongue out!”
The blow left Smoke a little woozy. He shook his head. “What about Sid? You had something to tell me about her, so out with it.”
Red faced, Allison rose. She stormed around the cot and kicked the platter of food across the room. “Sure, Smokey, sure! My dear sister will die in labor having Kane’s baby. No doubt the prude will be fool enough to carry it. So yes, Smokey, you’ll see sweet Sidney again, when she’s dead. Maybe the two of you can share a special moment then.”
Without turning to look at her, he said, “You’re bluffing, and doing a bad job of it.”
“No, Kane assured me. Don’t you understand? That’s why we left her and chose you. Her days are numbered. Yours are just beginning. You defeated Reginald! A doppelganger. He was Kane’s most powerful ally. No mortal could pull off what you did. You are different. Special. Soon, you will see—and like so many others who resisted it before at first, you, my noble little brother, will embrace it.” She banged on the door. “You’re going to regret not taking me up on my offer or eating that steak. You’ll need all of your strength for what’s coming. You’re family. I was looking out for you. You had your chance, but now it’s too late.”
Smoke heard the door open and close. Allison’s heels echoed in the hall and faded away. His stomach groaned again. He eyed the steak on the floor. What did Weird Al’s song say? Just eat it.
CHAPTER 5
Sid spent the next couple of hours watching Russ surf the dark web. She didn’t have much familiarity with it, but Russ seemed to know what he was doing. That didn’t mean as much to her as she would have liked it to, so she sent a text to Guppy and another to Mal. In between conversations, she packed a duffle bag.
Lounging on the sofa with his arms stretched out on the back, Calhoun said, “It looks like the little lady of the house is ready to fly.” He cracked his scarred knuckles. Calhoun was bigger than Smoke, and with the build of an NFL defensive tackle, he practically filled the couch. “Have you called Shatner and ordered your Priceline tickets?”
“Funny.” Standing over the bed, Sid stuffed more clothing into the bag. “I didn’t think I needed tickets for Air Transylvania. Just a pint of your thick blood.”
“Why’s my blood got to be thick?”
“Because your head is.”
Calhoun let out booming, out-of-place laughter. When he finished, he said, “If you fly commercial, what are you going to do for weapons when you land?”
“I’m working on it.”
“I’ve got a guy we can hook up with—”
“You aren’t coming.” Sid zipped up the duffle bag. “You’re going.”
“What?” Calhoun twisted his head around. “Hey, Princess Bang-Bang, I’m along whether you like it or not.”
“Princess Bang-Bang? Where’d you come up with that?”
Calhoun shrugged. “That was the talk about you in the academy. You had all of those marksmanship records, many of which still stand today. That’s what they called you. You didn’t know that?”
“First I ever heard of it.” She walked the duffle bag over to the front door and dropped it down, hiding the pride that she was brimming with. It seemed like such a long time ago that she was the hotshot on the range. Yeah, I was something then. She opened the door. “Thanks for the information, fellas. See you around.”
Russ spun in the chair. “Hey, we’re trying to help you out here. No need to be rude.”
Agitated, she said, “I’m not the one who showed up on your doorstep at four in the morning. Besides, you don’t have any skin in the game. You don’t owe me or Smoke anything. What’s in it for you?” She glared at Calhoun. “Either of you?”
Russ and Calhoun locked eyes for a moment before their attention fell back on her. With a shrug, Russ said, “I don’t know why you’re giving me heat on this, but I’ve got friends and family too, you know. Sure, they may think I’m a kook, and maybe they’ve written me off, but I’m still going to do what’s best for them. If we don’t fight the real nut jobs, who the hell will?”
“Roger that!” Calhoun said.
Rubbing her head, she said, “Look, guys, sorry to be rude, but I’d rather walk this walk alone.”
“You’re too deep in this to play the lone wolf routine.” Calhoun stood up, tall as a giant. “If you want to walk that plank, then go ahead, but if you drown, so does your baby.”
Sid’s mouth dropped open a little. “You know?”
“Princess Bang-Bang, please, I’ve got more brothers and sisters than you have fingers. I know a pregnant mommy when I see one. It’s all in the walk. Daddy used to put his hands to his mouth like this and announce, ‘Build another chair for the table! Incoming!’” With a nod, he waltzed out the door.
Russ sauntered over. “If it’s any consolation, I wasn’t going to fly to Vegas with you. I hate flying. Besides, I’m a homebody. I can do just as much here as there. You have everything you need. Good luck, Sid.”
Feeling a loss, Sid watched the two men speed away in the old sedan. There was sincerity in the both of them. It seemed strange coming from Calhoun. He had a violent reputation, but something about him had changed. She closed the door, headed back to the computer, and took a seat to review everything Russ had pulled up.
Las Vegas was a perfect grid of construction. The casinos were where the attention was focused, but it was the outlying network that made it all happen. The city had expanded fast, but the grid was advanced. Russ and his resources were able to hack into traffic cameras and follow the hearse Smoke had been transported in to where it resided now: at a funeral home, very similar to the one Titus Tolliver the gargoyle operated. The structure was old.
Sid felt a chill trickle down her spine.
It made perfect sense to take Smoke to a place like that to make the transformation. It was there they’d try to turn him into a monster. But she knew Smoke would never willingly do that. He’d die first. That was her fear—that she’d never see him alive again. She shut down the computer, turned off the lights, and grabbed her bag.
She headed to the doorway that led into the garage. Inside, the phantom black Hellcat waited. She fired up the engine, and it rumbled with thirsty life. She punched the accelerator and roared out of the garage.
Road trip.
CHAPTER 6
Smoke sat on the floor of the muggy cell and stretched. It was one of those things he made himself do in prison. Living in tight quarters made for stiff limbs. When the time came for him to make his move, he needed to be ready to spring. A split second could make all the difference. It was time to make things happen. It was time to reunite with Sid, possibly.
Up on the ceiling, a film of water gathered in the sweltering little room, dripping into a puddle between his legs. It hadn’t been this hot earlier. Someone had turned the heat up. He was determined not to let it break him. He’d spent plenty of time in one of Alabama’s finest correctional facilities. That was worse than this. In prison, he didn’t have any kind of view, b
ut he enjoyed the solitude, sometimes.
Coming to his feet with the ease of a house cat, he walked over to the wall. His fingers traced the outline of his bedroom that was painted in great detail on the wall. He could see himself and Sid lying in the bed, laughing and giggling over something stupid he might have said. His fingers touched the pillows and the sheets. He could almost smell her on them, even though there was nothing but a hard wall behind the paint.
He looked at the bathroom in the background. The door was half open. The vanity lights were on. Smoke snorted. Why in the world would anyone go to the trouble of painting an entire cell to look like his garage apartment? Such a great scene couldn’t be painted in a matter of days. This project had taken weeks. Months. How long had they been watching him? Why such an elaborate setup?
He turned. Kane stood on the other side of the cell door in a tuxedo without the jacket, leering. His wavy hair hung over his bullish shoulders. He tilted his head on his thick neck. “You’re surprised to see me, Smoke. Heh. You didn’t even hear me coming. Perhaps your acute senses have dulled. You aren’t used to someone creeping up on you, are you?”
“Did you come to chit-chat, or do you have something important to say?”
“Everything I say is important.”
“If you say so.” Smoke walked right up to the bars and stared Kane in the eye. “Let’s quit playing games. Start speaking like a man.”
“Feeling cocky, are you? Good, you’ll need it.” Kane’s penetrating eyes never left Smoke’s. “I have to admit, Smoke, you fascinate me. After all, you killed your brother Reginald. That’s quite a feat. I admire it.”
“He wasn’t my brother.”
“No? You’re wrong, Smoke. We are all brothers and sisters here. We come from the same fabric that was sewn centuries ago. Bastards, each and every one of us.” Kane unfastened his bowtie and unbuttoned his collar. He stuffed the tie inside his pocket. He began rolling his sleeves up. “This shirt, this tuxedo, is decades old, maybe a century. My character has never changed from my mortal days, such as you are now. Do you know what I was before I became a shifter?”
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