The Order of Chaos

by Rhonda L. Print

  “Thanks.” I looked up at him.

  “Don’t mention it … to anyone,” he added with a half-hearted grin.

  So maybe Ramirez wasn’t such a bastard after all.

  Wilson strode through the door and headed straight for me. I stood as he approached and before I could say a word he wrapped his arms around me in bear hug. He let go and grabbed onto my shoulders, pulling me back so he could look me in the face. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” I croaked out, barely a whisper.

  “You’re bleeding.” He motioned toward the tank top I had on.

  I shook my head. “No.” I blinked. “It’s not mine … Ben’s.” My voice broke.

  Sam came in, followed by Donovan. Wilson took a step away.

  “Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” Sam exclaimed. “What the hell happened out there?”

  I sat down, Donovan on my left, Wilson on my right, and Sam sat on the low table in front of me. Donovan kept a comforting hand on my arm while I went through the details. As I spoke the room filled with police officers. Local or federal, when one of your own was hurt, you were drawn to the hospital. To talk and comfort, to pray.

  And to wait.

  I went into the bathroom and washed the blood from my hands. Donovan gave me his button-down shirt to change into. He had a T-shirt on underneath. I was grateful for the change but could still smell the metallic stench of blood.

  Ben’s blood.

  I doubled over, gripping the sink for support, and sobbed.

  Ben was a great guy. He’d followed me all through training. There was never anything romantic between us; he’d been more like a little brother. He hadn’t talked much about his own family and I hadn’t pushed it.

  I’d failed him and now he was lying in a hospital, covered in blood and fighting for his life.

  The stakeout was my assignment. Ben was my responsibility and I’d fucked it up.

  I took a deep breath and attempted to pull myself together. I splashed some water on my face and walked back out into the waiting area. Wilson’s gaze was steady on mine with an unspoken question. I nodded to him to assure him I was okay then started to pace.

  Half an hour later and unable to just sit there, I headed toward the door. I let the anger eat away the sorrow. I could cry later. Right now, I wanted, no, needed to know who had done this to Ben.

  Sam grabbed my arm as I reached for the door. Both Donovan and Ramirez had followed me. Wilson managed to get a step ahead of me and was now blocking the exit.

  “Where are you going, Leah?” Sam asked cautiously.

  “I have a witness to interrogate.” I faced Wilson. “Wilson, get out of my way.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “What witness?”

  “That little pissant who calls himself Malvin. He’s the one who sent us over there. The bastard set us up. I’m going to find out who he’s working for.” I felt the venom in my voice. “Wilson, please.” I struggled to calm my voice. “Get the hell out of my way.”

  Sam gave one short nod of agreement. “Donovan, you go with Leah; Ramirez, get back to the crime scene and see if you can help. I’ll keep watch here.”

  “I’m coming with you, Leah.” Wilson announced, then stepped out of my way.

  * * * *

  It was low building and the bulk of its mass was buried in the ground. The natural rustic beauty of the desert was shrouded by the dark of night, leaving only shadows that surrounded a small parking lot in the back.

  Malvin Betrayer sat on a chair in a thick concrete cell. He had not fed since we’d captured him and it was starting to show. His skin was almost transparent and had shrunk around the bony structure of his face. There was a slight tint of blue to the pale complexion all vampires had. Without a regular blood supply, his body was beginning the first stages of decomposition.

  Donovan and Wilson stood flanking the door, armed with silver and ready to kill, or at least Donovan was ready to kill. Wilson’s job was to protect and serve. In order for any agent of SINS to serve, you killed. We were not working with human beings and any hesitation would get you, or someone else, killed. I lowered my shields, just enough to feel the arrogance flowing off Malvin. It pissed me off even more.

  “Malvin?” I began, controlling the anger in me. “Do you remember me?”

  One side of his thin mouth curled up in a sneer. “You’re the bitch that shot me,” he croaked.

  “If I had shot you,” I continued calmly, my own sneer growing, “you would be dead. I load with silver, not lead.”

  “Oh, that’s right. Your boyfriend shot me because you didn’t have the balls to do it.”

  I nearly laughed at the thought of Sam as my boyfriend.

  Wilson snorted.

  “You shouldn’t have said that,” Donovan commented with a hint of humor in his voice.

  I pulled the chair Malvin sat in right out from under him. He fell to the floor and I grabbed the chair, set it on Malvin’s chest, the heavy cross bar cutting across his neck, and sat on it. I pressed the wooden heel of my boot into his groin, not far, just enough to puncture his skin. I heard his skin began to sizzle as the wood of my heel met his flesh. I could feel the first bit of fear flush over Malvin. I leaned down, increasing the pressure a little at a time, and gave my anger free rein. “Listen, you little fucker. I’m going to give you one chance to tell me who turned you before I shish kabob your balls on the bottom of my boot. Who. Turned. You?”

  Malvin’s breath came in short gasps.

  “Cut the dramatics, Malvin,” I ordered as I pressed my heel deeper into him. “Vampires don’t need to breathe.”

  His eyes grew wider. “Okay, okay. Please, just let up a little.”

  “The name, Malvin,” I ordered as I twisted my heel just a little more.

  “Damien,” he groaned. “He called himself Damien. He doesn’t use a last name.”

  I eased the pressure from my foot just a little. “Where can I find Damien?”

  “The apartment I told you about … he called it a recruiting station. He brought in new vamps every day. Not all of them looked happy to be there.”

  “He’s turning people against their will?” I cast a quick look back at Donovan and Wilson.

  “I don’t know for sure. He was keeping them there, though. He said he wanted an army.” Malvin winced. “He said this territory was his and he would take it back. He liked to brag, you know, ‘he’d do this and he’d be that’. All I know is that he talked about some hotshot vampire and that he would soon own a casino, Dark Nights of something.”

  “Dark Nights of the Desert?” I asked, suspicion and disbelief rolling through my mind. Was Ian somehow involved with this? Is that why he wanted back in my life, to use me for information? To use me again?

  “Yeah, yeah, that’s it!” Malvin said anxiously.

  I arched a brow. “Is that all, Malvin?” I turned to Donovan and Wilson. Wilson’s expression was unreadable but Donovan looked as if he were suppressing a smile. “I don’t think he’s telling us everything, guys.”

  “Yes, I swear, I swear. That’s all I know. I gave a description to a police artist. I don’t know anything else,” he pleaded.

  I looked to Donovan who held up a police sketch.

  I took my foot off Malvin, stood and removed the chair. Malvin jumped to his feet with a hiss and took a swing at me. I swung back with the silver knife I had concealed in my hand, slicing Malvin across his chest. He dropped to the floor, his chest sizzling with the effect of silver on flesh.

  I turned and walked toward the door. “Thanks, Malvin,” I called to him. “Have a good afterlife.”

  As I walked past Donovan and Wilson I heard Donovan tell Wilson, “Remind me to never piss her off.”

  Wilson grabbed my arm and turned me toward him once we walked out into the parking lot. “Do you know how many civil rights laws you just violated, Leah!” He spoke through clenched teeth. “You’ll be lucky if the son of a bitch doesn’t sue you.”

  “He’s not human, Wi
lson.”

  “What?”

  “He’s not a human being anymore. He is classified as a supernatural being.” I shook my head slowly as I spoke. “He doesn’t have any civil rights.”

  Wilson looked to Donovan for confirmation. Donovan gave him one quick nod then Wilson turned back to me.

  “I can use any and all means necessary to solve a crime. I don’t abuse that power but we’re talking about vampires and shapeshifters, supernaturals that have unparalleled strength and abilities. The normal rules don’t apply to them.”

  Wilson let out a long breath and rubbed his hands over his face. “You can really use any force you deem necessary?”

  “Yes. I don’t abuse that authority but I will use it.” I furrowed my brow in confusion. “What exactly do they tell you about SINS, anyway?”

  He shook his head. “Not a whole hell of a lot, Leah. Not a whole hell of a lot.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  We made it to Dark Nights in record time. Wilson pulled in front of the main door and I jumped out before he fully stopped the car. “Give me fifteen minutes.”

  Donovan looked at me incredulously, but Wilson simply nodded.

  Dark Nights of the Desert held a casino, nightclub, restaurants and hotel. Ian’s private office and suite was behind the nightclub. I was grateful some of my SINS training involved learning to put up mental blocks. One time, not too long ago, I wouldn’t have been able to walk into a crowded place without the emotions of everyone around me overwhelming my senses. That’s the curse of being an Empath.

  I strode through the casino and made it about two feet into the nightclub when Mouse, one of Ian’s bodyguards, fell into step beside me. “It’s great to see you again, Leah.” He matched me stride for stride. “What brings you around?” He was going for casual but we both knew he wasn’t pulling it off.

  “You know why I’m here, Mouse. Where is he?” I walked through the hidden door behind the bar that led to Ian’s suite.

  “He really can’t be disturbed right now.” Mouse placed his hand on my arm, tried to stop me.

  I shook him off, hoping Ian had kept the “hands off Leah” rule in place. The last time one of Ian’s bodyguards, Bear, held me back, Ian threw him through a window. The fact I was holding a gun on Ian and Bear was just doing his job didn’t seem to matter to Ian. No one was to harm me, period. I was happy to take advantage of that fact.

  Mouse held his hand up and tried to step in front of me. I walked around him and came face to face with Bear.

  “Miss Wolfe?” Bear looked surprised. Apparently Mouse hadn’t let him know I was in the building.

  I stepped around Bear and opened the door.

  Ian sat behind his desk. Across from him was a thin but shapely woman. Her ample, and probably surgically altered, breasts strained against the thin fabric of the shimmery silver dress that barely covered her from nipple to ass cheek. Her long dark hair flowing nearly to the floor swung out as she whipped her head toward me.

  “Hello, Ian.” I felt my pulse beating in my neck as my heart raced and my blood heated at the sight of him, the scent of him. My anger bubbled up and I shoved it back down. If he was reading my thoughts, he didn’t show it but I knew his vampire hearing could easily detect my increased heartbeat and the blood rushing through my veins.

  Ian looked up at me. “If you will excuse us, Eva. I have some business I must attend to.”

  With a snort, the woman stood, straightened out her dress, then bent and picked her purse up off the floor, flashing a good bit of breast and making a show of it.

  “I’ll look forward to hearing from you at tomorrow,” she crooned before walking past me. With a flip of her hair and lift of her chin she cast me a look that said she clearly didn’t appreciate the interruption.

  Tough shit.

  “Hello, My Love. Please, come in. Have a seat.” He stepped aside and motioned for me to enter. I turned to Bear and Mouse. “I’ve come with Wilson and another agent, Donovan Rourke. Please lead them in when they arrive.”

  I turned back to see Ian nodding, letting them know to do as I asked.

  They shut the door and left.

  “Sorry to interrupt your … meeting.” I gestured with my hand.

  “I’m afraid I am interviewing for additional cocktail waitresses,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand, “but I am always pleased to see you,” he replied while walking toward me. Ian’s lips curved into a slight smile. His long, black hair hung loose over his broad shoulders. The short dark curls on his muscular chest peeked out of the black silk shirt he wore. I knew the line of dark hair led toward even more appealing things beneath the waist of the black leather pants he wore. His boots, the ones he was wearing when I first met him and also his favorites, hugged his calves like a lover. He was sexy as hell.

  “I didn’t come here to socialize, Ian. An agent was bitten tonight. I need to know if you know this man.” I threw the artist drawing of Damien on the table in front of me.

  Ian walked over, all the fluid grace of a predator, and picked up the drawing. “Damien.” He said the name with venom. “He was here last week. He was looking for trouble, of that I was sure. I told him he was not welcome here and Bear escorted him out.” He paused. “Please, sit, My Love.”

  I sat in a small chair to the side of the sofa. Ian sat on the sofa nearest me. “What do you know about him?” I asked.

  A knock on the door paused us and Wilson and Donovan came in. They exchanged “hellos” and Wilson took a seat on the sofa. Donovan stood by the side of my chair. Ian’s eyes narrowed and he reached forward and placed his hand on my knee. He was laying claim to me in the presence of Donovan. I wanted to laugh, especially since I’d just received the glare of the woman with him tonight. Donovan and I were friends, nothing more. There could never be more between us; I simply didn’t feel that way about him. Donovan looked from Ian to me, then back again, suppressing a smirk. Clearly, he got Ian’s message and was amused by it. Once Wilson and Donovan were brought up to speed I continued. “Is that all that he said?” I asked.

  “Damien was a poor excuse for a human and is now a poor excuse for an immortal. I don’t know who would have wanted to turn that into a vampire. His blood must have been vile,” he said with disgust.

  “You knew Damien before he was turned?” Donovan asked.

  Ian nodded. “He was a petty criminal, drug dealer mostly. I warned him out of my place more than once.”

  “Warned?” Donovan raised an eyebrow.

  Ian sighed. “Only warned. I do not go around biting those who annoy me like a deranged yap-yap dog.”

  This time I couldn’t suppress a giggle that bordered on hysteria. The image of Ian as a small dog taking nips out of people was too much for my overtired brain to handle. Ian smiled and winked at me, letting me know he was baiting Donovan.

  “Thank you for your time, Mr. Nightwalker.” Wilson stood.

  “Please, Captain Wilson, call me Ian.” They shook hands.

  “I’ll need to see your surveillance tapes for the time frame Damien was here,” Wilson told him.

  “I’ll have them to you by sunrise,” Ian promised.

  Wilson’s phone rang. He answered it and I watched the color drain from his face. I knew why without asking.

  Ben was dead.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I ran to the door and fumbled with the knob. My chest hurt with the force I was using to hold back the tears that wanted to come. I tried to get out of there, away from Ian, away from everyone, before the worst of the sobs overcame me, but all I could see was Ben’s face, eager and full of life and mischief when I walked into Luigi’s where Ben had planned my surprise congratulations party. The way he kept his arm neatly tucked around his girlfriend. Happy and perfectly comfortable in his own skin. I buckled over and my grief made my shields weak. I could not only feel my own sorrow but all the tension and grief of those around me.

  I felt hands on me, heard Ian’s voice first. “Shh, it’s
okay, My Love.”

  I felt his calm surround my senses. One flutter of comfort blew across me, like a cool breeze on a warm day.

  “Get away,” I croaked between sobs. I didn’t want his emotions; I didn’t want anything from him.

  Then I heard Wilson telling Ian to back off and ordering Donovan to take me home; he’d have a uniform pick him up.

  Ian released me, both physically and mentally.

  I let Donovan lead me to the car. He seated me and strapped me in the seatbelt, all the while telling me it would be okay.

  How the fuck was it going to be okay? I wanted to scream the words at him but I just couldn’t get enough breath in my lungs to speak. I squeezed my eyes shut and focused on the drone of the tires on the pavement. The rhythm slowed my breath, and then my heartbeat until it was even again. There was less tension in the car with only my own feelings and Donovan’s surrounding me. When I managed to close my shields tight and secure, I had only my own feelings to dwell upon.

  I stared out the window. The midnight-blue sky was a perfect backdrop to the shadow of mountains. It was dry and hot this time of year and had there been daylight, the only visible green would be in the cacti that dotted the roadside and clung to the side of the mountains. The air conditioner in Donovan’s car, combined with the noise of the road, was hypnotic. I let the sound soothe me while the shadowy darkness outside the window blurred by.

  Donovan pulled the car to a stop. I climbed out while pulling my gun from its holster, an automatic reaction to the sight of a shadowy figure standing on the porch. I heard Donovan’s gun leave its sheath and knew he was aware of the presence too.

  The man on the porch shot his hands up high into the air. “It’s me, Leah.”