“Tourists,” Colt said, as if that explained everything.
“Uh-huh,” Edgar said, turning to leave. “Well, I gotta get back to work and establish an alibi.”
“Thanks again,” Colt said, taking a seat at the controls. The huge V8 engine started with a throaty growl, the powerful vibrations rattling everything loose in the craft and sending out pulsating ripples.
“My pleasure.” Stepping onto the dock, Edgar released the mooring lines and tossed them onto the airboat. “Mind that dynamite.”
“Will do!” Rissa replied, taking a seat at the front of the craft amid the stacks of supplies.
“Best of luck!”
Throwing a salute, Colt engaged the fan, then held on tight as the airboat started across the dark water. The noise of the engine rose to deafening levels as Betty Lou entered a field of tall weeds. In only a few minutes they lost sight of the garage, and then the elevated highway.
“Damn it, we should have asked Edgar for some wooden stakes!” Rissa cursed, rotating all of her rings so that the dragons faced outward, ready for battle.
“Who did what now?” Colt bellowed over the rumble of the big engine.
Annoyed, Rissa gestured and the engine continued working, but stopped making any noise. There was only the soft rush of the drive fan, and whisper of the weeds rubbing against each other.
“We should have gotten some wooden stakes,” Rissa repeated, as the airboat exited back into open water. “Or better yet, a crossbow. Yes, we really need to get a crossbow.”
“Something wrong with what we have?” Colt asked, steering with one hand, the other tight on the throttle.
“There’s a chance, just a chance mind you, that Dominic is a vampire.”
“As in I-drink-your-blood, turn-into-a-bat, sleep-in-a-coffin?” Colt asked, swerving around a sand bar.
“Exactly.”
“So those two really are Dracula and Renfield?”
“Yep.”
A fat alligator sunning his pale stomach on the sand rolled over as the silent airboat raced by, and loudly bawled his strong disapproval of all internal combustion engines.
“Is Laura a bloodsucker, too?”
“Well, you’re half right.”
“Excellent! Now we have a goal,” Colt snarled, accelerating once more. “Steal his rings, trick Dominic into the sunlight, then bury his ashes in a churchyard, go home and plan the wedding.”
“Moonlight and magnolias.”
“Say again?”
“Considering how we met, I’d like a midnight wedding,” Rissa said hopefully, her hair sparkling with tiny droplets of spray. “That’s not too strange, is it?”
“Sounds perfect,” Colt grinned, the boat skimming ever faster across the swamp. Behind them was a wide wake of choppy waves and oily blue smoke. “However, I’ve been thinking ...”
“Yes?”
“I’m rich, but so is Dominic. You have magic, and so does he. He has a bitch, and I have a witch.”
“Crap, it’s a fair fight!” Rissa noted unhappily.
“Not entirely,” Colt said, a strange expression growing on his face. “Because we have something they don’t, and it might make all the difference.”
“Rock salt? True love? The dynamite?”
“Not even close!” Colt laughed out of the side of his mouth. “I’m referring to a supercharged sex bomb without any morals, tact, or inhibitions.”
“Sorry, but Melissa has to guard Harmond House,” Rissa began hesitantly. “Although, I suppose that maybe—”
“There is another!” Colt interrupted in a weird froggy voice, as the airboat streaked into a grove of banyan trees and disappeared behind a heavy curtain of Spanish moss.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Rumbling storm clouds blanketed the sky over the Imperial Hunting Lodge, casting the area in deep shadows that nearly rivaled true night.
In spite of that, the air was strangely still, as if the universe were holding its breath. Banners hung limply from flag poles, flowers stood motionless in the windowboxes, the birds in the trees were silent, and the squirrels were paused on the tree branches as if frozen into place. Even the little babbling brook that flowed past the ruins of the old churchyard had mysteriously slowed to the point where the crystalline waters could now only softly murmur in distress.
Only partially converted into a facsimile of a hunting lodge from the nineteenth century, the main building and grounds were in well-ordered chaos, a contradiction in terms only fully understood by the more elite members of the construction business.
Stacks of bricks, mounds of cinder blocks, bags of cement, a huge pile of sand, and other assorted building materials dotted the manicured lawn, along with wooden planks, steel scaffolding, and hulking machines of unknown function. To the people passing by on the distant interstate it was impossible to tell if the lodge was being repaired or systematically disassembled.
Adorning the slate roof were a row of gargoyles, the granite statues oddly chained in place with collars around their necks, almost as if they were dogs on leashes. Scattered across the grounds were dozens of men and women in dark green jumpsuits. They were raking the sand on the golf course, hosing down the helipad, skimming leaves out of the waterfall, or just sweeping the fieldstone walks. But the work was done listlessly, the attention of the workers more focused on the distant forest, the river, or the nearby access road that led to a highway past the rolling hills.
Even more curiously, every man and woman was wearing sunglasses in spite of the darkness, and was armed with a handgun or a machete.
Standing at a window in an office on the second floor, Laura scowled at the
luxury estate, massaging her neck. Dominic had Healed the bullet wound in her throat, but the memory of the white-hot pain remained like a knife buried in her living flesh— along with the infuriating sight of that fat Yankee slut smiling in victory just before the gun fired. She eagerly looked forward to returning the favor.
“This is ridiculous! These idiots aren’t going to fool anybody,” Laura snorted in disdain. “For what possible reason is that woman carrying a chainsaw to skim the swimming pool?”
“Self-defense,” Dominic replied, dipping a brush into an open can of paint. “I hear the algae is particularly bad this time of year.”
“Amusing.”
“Thank you, I do try.” With a flourish, he splashed a complex rune on the wall. The mystic symbol glowed brightly for a moment as it burned into the bricks, then cooled to near invisibility.
More of the deadly runes were everywhere: painted on the floors, hung onto the walls, and nailed to the ceiling. He had even flushed a few down the toilet and stuffed one up the chimney just to be sure the building was completely protected.
“But still ...” Laura continued doggedly.
“They’re supposed to be spotted, my dear,” Dominic said with a chuckle. “They’re pawns, disposable and forgettable, whose whole purpose is to distract the white knight and lure the queen into a trap.”
Fair enough, she supposed. “Who are they anyway, mercenaries?” Laura asked, opening a desk draw to retrieve a pair of binoculars.
“My children,” Dominic stated, dropping the brush on the floor and moving to a gun cabinet in the corner of the office.
She glanced sideways. “Beg pardon?”
“You heard me.”
“All of them? How ... how many wives have you had?” Laura asked softly, then paused to reconsider the question. “Do you have?” she corrected.
“Wives? Dark night, what a charming notion,” Dominic chuckled, locking the door to the cabinet. “These are the people I have Turned, not fathered. They’re the children of my blood.”
An army of vampires? Cool. “And they’re moving so slowly because ...”
“Bewitched. Not all of them were Turned willingly, or even with their knowledge.”
“You mean they just woke up as vampires one day?”
“Inside their coffins, yes. Those who
escaped the grave, I claim as family. As for the rest ...” He shrugged in dismissal.
Whew, talk about tough love. “Are you sure that enchantment will hold?” Laura asked uneasily. “If Rissa should somehow turn them against us ...”
Walking to the window, Dominic gestured and a man raking the leaves burst into a cloud of ash. “I made them, and I can kill them at will,” he stated, returning to the work.
Which means that he will also be able to do that to me after I’ve Turned, Laura noted in cold realization. She seriously disliked the idea of anybody having that much power over her. Still, if that was the price of eternal beauty ...
“Any sign of them, my dear?” Dominic asked, going back to the gun cabinet.
“Nothing yet,” Laura muttered, using the binoculars to sweep the distant horizon for any sign of her former employer or his Yankee witch.
“They will come, never fear,” Dominic said confidently, running a fingertip along the edge of the metal door. In its wake, the steel glowed white hot, melting slightly and welding the door firmly in place.
“Is that really necessary?”
“A soldier prepares for what an enemy can do, not just for what they might,” Dominic replied, continuing the delicate work. “It would be most foolish to leave weapons lying about for Colt and Rissa to use when they try to sneak into the lodge to kill us.”
Laura snorted. “They still might get into the cabinet,” she muttered.
“Good! Because the barrels are completely blocked with lead, and the gunpowder removed from the bullets and replaced with dirt.”
“You don’t miss a trick, do you?”
Dominic flashed his fangs. “Insanity runs in my family, not stupidity.”
“Just wish I knew how they survived my attack in the swamp,” Laura muttered, lowering the binoculars. “I dropped his entire collection of antique cars on that wretched little hovel!”
“Are you sure the zombies found nothing?”
“Not a scrap of clothing or a drop of blood. Somehow they both escaped undamaged!” Laura growled. There came the sound of shattering glass as a ring glowed and her hands tightened on the binoculars, crushing them into a crumpled wad of steel.
“They must have Jumped.”
“Obviously. But where?”
“Impossible to say. Pity. With Rissa dead it would have been easier to gain access to Harmond House,” Dominic stated, stepping back from the gun cabinet to check the work. “You really should not have called them first.”
“I wanted that bastard to know who was killing them!” Laura snarled, casting away the destroyed binoculars. The memory of Colt refusing her hurt worse than the bullet to her throat. Shame and frustration mixed into a violent maelstrom of emotions, until she felt a dizzying moment of madness swirl in her mind.
“Hubris is such an ugly thing.”
“What was that?” Laura snapped, turning on the man.
“Nothing, my dear,” Dominic chuckled. “Are you sure the bear traps are well hidden in the rosebushes?”
“Yes, along with the land mines in the golf course, the tripwires in the forest, and punji stakes in the bouncy castle. Everything that can be done to fortify this rustic dump has been checked and double-checked.”
“Good. And the electronics have been disabled?”
“I smashed every wireless modem with a hammer. Nobody is going to hack their way into our computer system!” she boasted confidently. “I even broke the satellite dish into pieces and cut the telephone lines.”
“Most wise,” Dominic said, crossing his arms. “I’m still astonished you were able to get land mines on such short notice. Especially since they’re illegal for even the American military to use anymore.”
“Working for a billionaire, a woman meets a wide assortment of people,” Laura said, turning her back on the window. “Some of them are, shall we say, less than model citizens.”
“Obviously. I have never before had such a delightfully efficient assistant!”
“Partner,” Laura corrected in a dangerous tone.
“Not yet, my dear,” Dominic growled. “Once we have access to that workshop, I will Turn you, and then we shall be equals.”
“After which, we’ll ...?”
“Survive. What else is there?”
As the grandfather clock in the downstairs lobby began to loudly chime noon, there came a long-drawn-out howl from the roof above.
“Is this it?” Laura demanded, pulling out an ugly automatic pistol from underneath her blouse. “Are they here?”
“Highly improbable,” Dominic muttered, flexing both hands. “But I’ll check on the gargoyles anyway. Stay here and stay sharp! If I return too soon, or act strangely, I could be a doppelganger, or Rissa using a Glamour spell. We’ll need a password ...”
“Swordfish?”
“Droll. Good enough, I suppose.”
As Dominic left the office, Laura shoved the gun away and rushed back to the window. He didn’t like for her to do this particular spell, and kept saying that it was a waste of magic. But then, what Dominic doesn’t know won’t hurt him, will it?
Palming the cool glass, Laura said a brief incantation. Her ring visibly pulsed with ethereal power as the entire surface of the window wildly rippled with flashing colors to finally clear into an aerial view of the busy Savannah train station fifty miles away.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” Laura hatefully whispered in a
singsong voice, her fingernails raking along the window peeling off long strips of glass.
As the view abruptly shifted to the front entrance of Harmond House, her ring grew uncomfortably warm. But it cooled slightly as she mentally commanded the Looking Glass to show the splashing fountain at Forsyth Park, then the smoldering ruins of Coltier Tower, the living room of Colt’s apartment, then his mansion just outside of town, the lobby of The Grotto, under the boardwalk again, her own apartment, the pile of smashed cars covering Mud Island, Bonaventure Cemetery, Savannah Bridge, Savannah Airport, city hall, the city sewers, the empty video store in Chicago, the busy little Major Arcana shop, and even the cemetery in New Orleans where Colt’s parents were buried ...
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
It was past noon by the time Colt and Rissa moored the airboat at a public slip on the Savannah River.
Paying the modest docking fee in cash, they signed the registration using fake names, then slung heavy duffel bags over their shoulders and hit the streets.
In an attempt to remain circumspect, Rissa had cast a Glamour spell on both of them, changing their outward appearances into a dowdy pair of middle-aged Japanese business executives. They were wearing expertly tailored British suits, expensive Italian shoes, and carrying Nikon cameras hung around their necks. The combination marked them as rich tourists, the bane of Savannah, tolerated only because of the steady flow of cash fed into the local artisan community.
“These disguises seem to be working,” Colt said, smiling and waving at an old college buddy.
The beefy florist nodded politely in return, then quickly went back to arranging a display of hothouse lupines.
“Nobody ever really wants to notice a tourist,” stated Rissa as if it were a self-evident fact.
Hailing a cab, the couple rode across town in silence, trying to act casual while staying alert. The entire city was now enemy territory, and everybody in sight could be Dominic and Laura in disguise.
“I feel like a stranger in my own hometown,” Colt muttered, flinching as a local news helicopter passed by overhead. Then he broke into a ragged laugh.
“Something wrong?” asked Rissa in concern.
“No—no, I’m fine,” he replied, rubbing his face. “Just a touch of culture shock. Two days ago I knew for absolutely certain that magic did not exist. Now I’m engaged to a witch, disguised as a tractor salesman, and on a mission to bring down a vampiric wizard, and his pet blonde lunatic!”
Smiling sweetly, Rissa took his arm. “Well, at least I’m not boring
.”
Bending over, Colt kissed the top of her head. “Couldn’t be if you tried ... shit!”
“There’s shit in my hair?”
“No—no—no!” he gushed, then lowered his voice to a whisper. “But we forget to rename the Betty Lou! If Laura does find out about my emails to Edgar ...”
“Not a problem,” Rissa interrupted, leaning back in the seat. “I altered the paint job just before we reached the city limits.”
“Thank goodness,” Colt exhaled. “What is she now?”
“The Not-Broken Air Conditioner.”
“How romantic. Love it.”
“I aim to please!”
As the taxi crossed an intersection, Rissa spotted what remained of the burned-out Tower in the distance. Every window seemed to have been broken or removed, and tattered curtains fluttered in the ocean breeze. The plaza was not visible from this angle, but the rest of the bedraggled structure looked as if it had been transported here intact from downtown Beirut.
“When this is over, we need to rebuild that as fast as possible,” Colt said grimly, looking out the side window. “My company has over six hundred employees, and I will not allow any of them to lose a single paycheck because of this ... this secret war.”
“I can probably fix most of the damage right now,” Rissa said confidently, her rings starting to glow. But then she stopped and turned away from the window. Idiot! Repairs on that major a scale would completely exhaust her. More important, they would tell Dominic that she and Colt were back in town, neutralizing the all-important element of surprise.
“Maybe tomorrow,” Colt said gently, patting her hand.
Glumly, she nodded. “Sure, tomorrow.”
A few minutes later, the taxi dropped them off downtown. While Colt paid the fare in cash again, Rissa kept watch on the passing crowds of people. Nobody seemed to be paying them any special attention.
Briskly walking to the end of the block, they turned the corner and paused. Buckingham Place Apartments occupied most of a city block and was securely enclosed by a tall brick wall topped with neatly trimmed evergreens. The front awning was edged with gold, security cameras swept back and forth across the entrance, and the hulking doorman looked large enough to qualify as one of the Rocky Mountains.
Belle, Book and Candle: A Fantasy Novel by Nick Pollotta Page 23