The screens reverted back to images of the Citadel. One brought up footage of the Death Games aired the previous night. Images of Dragon, Xena, Dodger, Luna, Barbarella, Cricket, and Red Hawk appeared.
“All the Chameleons exhibit supreme skill,” Picasso said. “Dragon is the strongest and fastest. From what I can tell, Dodger and Xena are the Dynamic Duo. Let me show you last night’s footage, and you can verify who the masked ones are.”
Cadence watched as a tall young man in black, with metal shoulder pads and leg-guards, wearing a Batman cowl, stepped into the arena carrying a sword and shield. The arena was separated into three fighting areas; he fought in the south end. A young woman dressed in a silver breastplate, greaves, and a gleaming mask joined him. She held both an axe and a sword. Five vampires wielding chains and spears appeared to fight them. The vampires looked clumsy and slow as the humans launched an immediate attack.
“It’s Dodger and Xena, alright,” Cadence said. “I haven’t seen Dodger use a sword before, but his body size is right, and his attitude is, too. I’d recognize Xena anywhere.”
Dodger was flung across the cage and collapsed to the ground. He lost his sword, and a vampire jumped on his back and sank his teeth into the teen’s neck. Within seconds, the vampire fell over dead. Dodger reclaimed his blade and returned to the fray. Xena hacked up an opponent before being wrapped in a chain. Two vampires then dragged her to her knees and as they bit her, they collapsed to the ground. Dodger stabbed another opponent from behind. He crumpled, convulsing, before Dodger whacked off his head.
Applause roared from the vampire audience with fervor. Many waved small black flags with two silver serpents entwined, displaying the letters “DD” in the corner.
“I can’t believe what they’re being made to do, but at least they’re alive,” Cadence said. “Smack will be relieved that Dodger is okay, for now. What about Cricket? Has she been fighting this week?”
“No, she hasn’t, but I’m told Cricket is training with the werepumas and werewolves for an upcoming event. Dragon has fought every night for the last two weeks. What’s interesting is that he’s developed the ability to turn invisible. They throw everything imaginable at him, but Dragon always wins. A fight has been arranged between him and Aries of Athens for Christmas Eve. It’s being broadcast worldwide.”
Dragon appeared onscreen dressed as a ninja, ascending the stadium stairs. He carried two swords and jumped into the arena. Two animated, fire-breathing dragons, one green and one red, appeared on the arena jumbotrons, breathing his name in fire: Master Dragon. He bowed and faced his opponent, a tall vampire in chainmail holding a spiked mace. A bell rang cueing the warriors to begin.
“Aries is supposed to be indestructible,” Cadence said. “We have one week to get our people out before Christmas Eve. Can your inside-man help us? We’re not talking about Pallaton, are we? He’s not to be involved; I don’t trust him.”
“Pallaton isn’t the only Dark Angel at the Citadel, nor does he know the identity of my source. Plans are in motion to get our people out.”
“We’ll be putting our eggs in one basket. I’m not sure I like that.”
“The Dark Angels are the only ones who can move close enough to get them out. Have a little faith, Commander. This plan will work. Now, if you don’t mind, I need food. Deer blood might not be my favorite, but it’s available.”
“Patch me in to Highbrow before you go.”
The vampire clicked a few buttons and brought up Private Destry, who was staffing the controls at Seven Falls. Pleasantries were exchanged before Picasso left the control room. She waited, nervous, unsure what to say to him until he appeared on the monitor. Bundled in a heavy coat, cap, and scarf, he looked tired.
“Cadence? When Destry said I had a call waiting, I expected the landline. Looks like Picasso found an easier way for us to communicate. Are you able to see our entire camp through the surveillance cameras?”
“Yours and the Citadel,” she said. “But I called because I wanted to tell you that we’ve found other survivors all over the world. We sent word to your dad and every military base, but so far we haven’t received a response. I figured we’d dig in deeper and wait it out until we hear from Senator Powers. It’s only a matter of time before he arrives with the entire U.S. Army and Air Force. We’re not alone.”
Highbrow looked relieved. “You have no idea how good it is to hear that, Cadence. I wanted to contact you the other night. Before you say anything else, I have to apologize. What happened between us was my fault. I had no right to take command and send you away. You might hate me now, but I’d do anything to take it back. It was a huge mistake based on fear and stupidity. I’m so sorry.”
Cadence wasn’t sure she heard right. “Huh?”
“I said I’m sorry. Big time.” Highbrow smiled wider. “Say something.”
“Well, you are stupid…and I’m sorry, too.”
Laughter came swift between them, ending as sudden as it had started. For a moment, they sat staring at one another, caught up in their own emotions. Cadence spoke first.
“It would help us if Tandor came here. He’s overdue. Picasso needs his ability with computers. This place is a good one, Highbrow. We have plenty of room, fresh water, supplies, even entertainment. It’s safe, and I mean, vampire proof, but I can’t say anymore.”
Fingers near the screen, as if he could touch her face. “I’ve been such a jerk, Cadence. I still love you.” He paused when she did not respond. “Of course an apology doesn’t fix what I did, and I appreciate your offer, but I’ve got to stick it out here. I hope you understand. We’re doing okay.”
Cadence knew Highbrow wanted more. She did not feel the same. Too much had happened to simply forget what he did. Their relationship could never be the same again, but she didn’t have the heart to tell him.
“Highbrow…”
“Okay, I lied,” he said, exploding with pent up emotion. “I’m miserable. The camp is awful. I don’t know what’s worse, everyone coming down with the flu, the recent thefts and fights, or this ache in my chest. I don’t know how to make things right. We need help, and I’m at a total loss.”
Cadence watched Highbrow stare at his hands, struggling to say what was on his mind. His biggest fault was his pride. It wasn’t easy for him to admit he needed help. Maybe he had changed for the better.
“Of course I’ll help,” she said. “We have everything Rose needs to handle a few stuffy noses and sore throats. I can send it right over. But that isn’t what’s upsetting you.”
Highbrow looked up. Worry lines appeared across his forehead. His eyes showed concern. “The Shadowguard has left us alone for a month now, but I’m seeing signs of extreme violence in the younger kids. The brig can’t hold everyone and house arrest isn’t helping. Would the Kaiser stoop to using chemical warfare on us? It’s horrible, Cadence, and it’s not the Christmas blues making everyone act crazy. Do you think it could be black magic? It sounds lame, but I’m not sure what else to think.”
Cadence sat back, chewing her bottom lip. “You’re not describing anything out of the ordinary. It’s snowing. Morale is low. And you’re locked in a box canyon with a bunch of kids who are homesick. Nothing more.”
A frown appeared on Highbrow’s face. “It’s more than that, Cadence.”
“Well, I suppose the Kaiser has the means to gas your camp or poison the water. But I don’t think its black magic. If you want my true opinion, I believe you should bring the camp here. It’s the only solution I can offer short of coming there and kicking butt.”
“I can’t,” Highbrow said. “It’s not personal, Cadence. I’m in charge now, and if you bail me out of this, they’ll see me as weak.”
“Then change what you’ve been doing. Have the older ones assume duties and keep the younger kids under surveillance. Separate the sick from the healthy and let the vampires care for them. Sedate those who are violent, if necessary, but don’t resort to the Captain’s methods of disciplin
e. Hold a camp meeting of the team leaders, tell them the situation. Meanwhile, I’ll try to learn what the Kaiser is up to.”
Highbrow smiled. “Thanks. I’d appreciate it, Cadence.”
“Sure. I still think you’re not telling me what’s got you so down. I’ve never seen you like this. Is Sterling giving you trouble?”
“It’s not that. Micah ran into Pallaton last night at the vampire club. I hate being the messenger, but Pallaton gave him a message I was asked to pass along.”
Cadence laughed without humor. “This ought to be good. What is it?”
“This isn’t easy for me to say,” he said, “so just know that I don’t agree with it. The Kaiser has promised to leave our camp alone if you turn yourself in. He’s hired bounty hunters from Texas to find you. Human bounty hunters. They’ll come here first, but we’re ready for them.” A long pause followed. “Well? What should I tell him?”
“Tell him to suck eggs,” Cadence said, her tone betraying her anger. “Here I am feeling guilty I can’t do more and you’re ready to sell me out to save your own hide. Pallaton can tell the Kaiser to sit tight and wait, because when I’m ready, I’ll slide down the chimney and kill him myself. As for your camp, figure it out, Highbrow. You seem to be holding all the cards.”
“I told you not to shoot the messenger,” Highbrow said, looking flustered. “Why do you have to assume the worst about me? I don’t want you to surrender. I wish you were still here. I wish we were…” He glanced at the door to his office.
An argument was happening outside, raised voices becoming audible.
“I’ve gotta run,” Highbrow said. “I’ll relay your message to Pallaton and hold the fort. We’ll talk later, okay?”
The transmission ended.
Cadence stared at the screen for several minutes, processing everything she had just heard, including Highbrow’s last ditch effort to save his own skin. He had sacrificed her again to protect his camp. Knowing how he felt didn’t make her warm and fuzzy inside.
* * * * *
Chapter Six
“The Kaiser requests your company at dinner,” the guard said.
A sneer spread across Logan’s dark, handsome face as he attempted to move around the Shadowguard. He wanted no part of the Kaiser or his smug little friends tonight. Logan intended to watch the Death Games at the arena. The Shadowguard carried a new M16, and while Logan only had a pocketknife to protect himself with, it would do the trick if a vampire tried to suck him dry.
“Dragon is fighting,” Logan said. “I’m going to the arena. What happened to my old guard? I haven’t seen you before.”
The Shadowguard had olive skin, nearing middle-age. Beyond that, he resembled every other guard in a black trench coat and black shoes. Logan walked around the guard, experiencing a rush of irritation when the guard appeared in his path.
“The dining hall is in the opposite direction, Agent Logan.”
“Are you deaf? I’m going to the arena. Dragon is fighting.” Logan made a quick decision. “Why don’t you come with me?”
The vampire smiled, revealing long fangs. “This might be the first time I’ve been assigned to guard you, but I know you. Maybe you gave other guards the slip, but I’m going to be your shadow.”
“Good,” Logan said. “You can buy me popcorn.”
The old jock dorms where Logan lived sat near the football stadium. The vampire followed him downstairs and into the lobby where two Shadowguard stood, grinning like idiots as they flipped through a Playboy Magazine. Logan’s guard opened the front doors, catching up with him on the shoveled sidewalk. The night was clear, stars were bright, and loud cheering came from the arena. A stocking cap over his shaved head, Logan stuffed his hands into pockets. He felt around for his game-pass until it brushed against the fingers of his hand.
“You don’t like vampires, do you?”
Logan thought it an odd question. Wasn’t it obvious? “Gee, where did you get that idea?” he said with his usual sarcasm. “Am I giving off that kind of vibe?”
“It’s curious that a woman as intelligent as Rose Standish is interested in someone like you.”
The vampire had a Middle Eastern accent, but Logan could not discern the dialect. He continued, “You look surprised. There’s little that goes on at Seven Falls we don’t hear or see. I was with Lieutenant Aldarik when we attacked the survivors’ camp. Rose killed one of my friends.”
“Well, she’s a Dark Angel, and she doesn’t like the Shadowguard. A good way to my bad side is to keep talking about her. Whatever relationship I had with Rose Standish is none of your business…but I’m glad to know she killed your friend.”
The wind picked up and Logan hurried forward, joining the line of vampires standing outside the stadium. A large banner hung over the side of the building, reading DEATH GAMES. Vendors sold souvenirs behind tables, just as they might at an Air Force Academy football game. He paused to pick up a Master Dragon sign that someone had dropped, brushed away the snow, and grinned at his guard.
“I’m a big fan of Dragon’s,” Logan said. “That kid has killed more Shadowguard than the entire Freedom Army. I’m not sure why, but it makes me happy. So if that means I don’t like vampires, then you’re right. I don’t.”
“Rose Standish was my friend, too.”
The guard stood behind Logan in line, but being chatty wasn’t going to win him over. Logan’s breath came out in white puffs, setting him apart from every man and woman in line, and he received more than a few looks from other fans. Vampires needed air but they were immune to the freezing temperature.
“Mind changing the subject?” Logan asked. He waved his banner. “I’m here for the entertainment, so let’s not get friendly. I don’t want to be friends.”
“Maybe I could be one,” the vampire said, keeping his voice low. “My assignment as your guard isn’t a coincidence. I arranged to be closer to you, upon Rose’s request. My name is Bechtel. I’m a Dark Angel. And I need to know if you’re willing to help us?”
Logan thought about reaching for his pocketknife. “Bechtel, is it? Let’s not pretend you know Rose, or that she cares about my wellbeing. I am whatever you’ve heard about me, plus a hundred and ten percent more mercenary than you could ever imagine. I go to the highest bidder, and right now, the Kaiser owns me. What’s your deal? Did Pallaton put you up to this? Forget it. I’m not your man.”
“Rose told me you’d react this way,” Bechtel said. “But she also said she forgives you. She knows you regret what you did and thinks you may want to make amends. She also knew you wouldn’t believe me, unless I gave you something of hers that had meaning to you.” He reached into his pocket and produced a solitary brown acorn.
While an unimpressive specimen, the acorn did have significant meaning to Logan. After he caught Rose off guard in the lab with his first kiss, she demanded he bring a fresh basket of wildflowers to study. Instead, he brought her a handful of acorns. No one else knew. Even if Bechtel was a Dark Angel, though, Logan wasn’t sure he wanted to get involved with the people he had betrayed. Rose assumed much. Taking the acorn from Bechtel’s hand, Logan pocketed it and marched through the gate. He gave his ticket to the attendant and entered the stadium, threading his way through the crowd to reach the concessions, giving himself time to think. The odor of popcorn sat heavy in the air. It took a while to get a box, as it was a snack vampires were able to digest. Logan heard the music signaling intermission, and a crowd issued forth from the tunnels.
Bechtel kept up as Logan shouldered his way into the arena. “Is there a problem? Rose needs your help. She needs to know what the Kaiser is planning. You’re with him every night. He must have mentioned plans in front of you. Rose is worried about her camp and about Cadence. If you can tell us anything at all, it would be appreciated.”
Exiting the tunnel, Logan stood looking up and down the bleachers, trying to find his seat. He moved as a young couple holding hands rushed up the stairs. Bechtel put his hand on Logan’s s
houlder, bending to whisper in his ear.
“Will you help us?”
“Is this a trick or some crazy female way of finding out if I care?” Logan headed toward his seat. “I’m not one to be pumped for information. Not my style. And I’m not sorry for what I did, either.”
Out of instinct, Logan checked under the seat for a surveillance camera before taking his place among the vampire crowd. Squished in on all sides, it felt like he was sitting in an ice locker. The only thing vampires were good for was providing a wind block. Logan passed Bechtel the popcorn as he stood up and waved his banner in the air, before handing it to a pretty girl sitting in the row ahead of him. He sat back down and considered Bechtel from the corner of his eye.
“Does forgiveness hold any value, Agent Logan?” asked Bechtel. “Because to some it means nothing, but to others it may be priceless. How about you?”
“Does she want to hear that I love her? Is that what she wants? What she needs to answer is why she still loves me. I’m not worth it. She knows it. I turn on the flip of a dime. You’re putting your life in jeopardy by telling me any of this. The answer is, ‘No.’”
During intermission a lame werewolf was released into the arena, along with fifteen zombies dressed like sheep. The wolf tried running from the zombies and when surrounded, he fought for his life. Seconds later, the wolf was torn to shreds.
The crowd laughed as another prisoner stumbled out. This time a human appeared, dressed in a tattered business suit stained with blood. He carried a briefcase as a weapon and managed to kill one zombie before being swarmed. The scoreboard counted down the final ten seconds before game time. The crowd started to cheer, “Dragon, Dragon!”
A large screen hanging over the arena displayed animated red and green dragons, twisting around each other with open jaws. The lights dimmed. A red beam spotlighted the middle of the court. The wolf and human bodies were removed, but the gore remained. More red beams hit the eastern tunnel. Expectant vampires erupted as Dragon became visible.
Vengeful Hearts (Dead Hearts Book 3) Page 6