He released her and shot a glare in their direction. “All you morons shut your gaping mouths and get back in position before I put you there,” he commanded.
The other operatives snapped to attention. Their mouths slammed shut.
Tiffany planted a kiss on her palm, before pressing it against his lips. She grinned. “For you to keep.”
She longed to hear him utter three words to her. But she knew how hard that would be for him. For a man who’d been taught to bottle up his emotions, to be distant for the sake of the job, telling her how he felt would be torture. He wasn’t prepared for that yet, not while he still bore the guilt of Mark’s death.
He opened his mouth, trying to force words out, but she placed a single finger over his lips.
“You don’t have to say it. I already know.” She ran her hand over his arm before she sighed. “Let’s go massacre some leeches.” She turned away and walked toward the door.
* * *
FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER she sat in the passenger seat of Janette’s silver sedan, cruising away from the city. She had no idea where they were going. She assured herself that there was nothing for her to be afraid of; Damon and the rest of the Execution Underground team were right behind her.
Once the vamps had accepted her suggestion of a meeting, entering the nest should have been a piece of blood pudding, but a mounting feeling of dread crept through her. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the night wasn’t going to go as smoothly as planned.
After thirty minutes of silence, Janette parked her car outside what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse. Tiffany nearly scoffed. What a cliché. Was it just her, or did all drug dealers, gangsters, monsters and the general underbelly of the population operate from inside old warehouses?
She and Janette exited the vehicle and slipped inside the freezing cold building. Tiffany almost choked on her own tongue. The inside held more vampires than she had ever imagined resided in Rochester. Nearly thirty bloodsuckers filled the room, along with only a small scattering of the humans she knew to be Hosts.
With twenty members of the Execution Underground at Damon’s side, the vampires outnumbered them. She tried not to think about that. Few of the vampires were very old, of that she was certain. She prayed the E.U. hunters could handle the extra monsters.
All eyes turned to her and Janette as they entered the room. Tiffany scanned the crowd and recognized several faces. The closest in rank to Caius was Lucas. The regular bartender at Club Fantasy, Lucas had been on this earth since the mid-1800s, when he’d been working as a scientist, or so Caius had told her. The vamp wasn’t nearly as ancient as his egotistical Roman superior had been, but in age he trumped all the other vamps in the room. Caius had told her that Lucas was the second-eldest vampire in the city, another migrant from N.Y.C.
“Finally our absent leader’s pet is here,” Lucas said with a grin.
From the look on his face, she already knew he couldn’t have been happier about Caius’s disappearance. With Caius gone, it was highly likely power would fall to him. Others might try to battle him for the position, but considering his age, his defeat would be highly unlikely.
He eyed her up and down. “You don’t look to be grieving very deeply over the death of your master.”
Master, my ass. In her head, Tiffany pulled her gun and shot Lucas point-blank solely for the disgustingly smug grin painted across his face. She fixed him with a hard glare. “I’m not grieving because Caius is not dead,” she said.
A murmur of whispers ignited throughout the small crowd. So much for not drawing attention to herself.
Lucas raised a brow. “That’s quite an assertive claim. Do you know something we don’t?”
She shrugged. “Perhaps. It depends on what you know. Gentlemen first.”
Lucas frowned. He didn’t like being sassed by a lowly human. His lips remained shut.
Janette answered instead. Her ghostly face reminded Tiffany of a skeleton. And, man, was the red lipstick freaky against that pale skin. Janette glanced in her direction. “All we know is that Caius, Carl and the car have disappeared. Perhaps you know something more than we do?”
Tiffany continued to stare straight at Lucas. “Actually, I don’t. But why Caius going missing would cause all of you to believe he is dead is beyond me.” She scanned the crowd, meeting several pairs of eyes along the way. “There is nothing pointing to Caius’s death, and knowing him as I do—as we all do—it seems quite likely to me that he’s putting a plan in motion, something he doesn’t want anyone to know about until he’s ready to reveal it. It sounds to me—” her gaze locked with Lucas’s again “—that some may be all too eager to declare him dead.”
His jaw clenched. “Don’t get too cocky, human,” he spat.
She feigned an innocent look. “Too cocky? I’m just trying to protect Caius’s interests...exactly like everyone else here who is loyal to him.”
Many vampires and Hosts alike nodded.
She cleared her throat. She had to keep this situation under control. “Rather than bickering about whether or not Caius is dead, I think it would benefit all of us to come up with a strategy to search for him. Until it’s proven otherwise, we should proceed as if Caius is alive and well. I’m quite certain he left to attend to pressing business.”
Lucas chuckled. “Without informing you or any of his fellow vampires?”
Tiffany shrugged innocently. “Who am I to question the motivations of my master?” Her stomach churned. The word tasted disgusting on her tongue.
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Perhaps you’re correct.”
What? Tiffany’s eyes widened. Where was he going with this? Why was he agreeing with a human?
A devious grin spread across Lucas’s face. “May I have a word, Tiffany? While the others create possible action plans, you and I can discuss the finer details of Caius’s disappearance in private.”
Damn it all to hell. With everyone standing there watching, she couldn’t refuse or she would appear insubordinate, a deadly sin for a human, as if she had something to hide or a reason to fear. And as Caius’s favorite, she was somewhat safe—hurting her would be as blatant as attacking Caius himself. So if she wanted to appear as if she truly believed he was still alive, she couldn’t act as if she feared Lucas in any way. But she wouldn’t put it past him—or any powerful vampire, for that matter—to attack her in Caius’s absence, if only to strike a blow at Caius if he sought the elder’s position.
She flashed a fake smile. “Of course.”
Lucas gestured for her to follow him down a nearby hall. Voices erupted in open discussion behind them, heatedly debating Caius’s disappearance, as she walked toward what felt like her doom.
She followed Lucas to the end of the hall, where he held open a door to what had probably once been an office. She walked inside, and he followed suit. Adrenaline raced through her. When he closed the door behind them, the distinct sound of a dead bolt clicking into place sounded in her ears.
Shit-tastic sign number one.
* * *
DAMON RODE IN the first of four E.U. vans. He sat next to the tech team leader, staring at the tracking screen. From what they could tell using their maps, a few minutes ago Janette had parked outside an abandoned warehouse near Brighton, a nearby suburb.
Courtesy of the silent hybrid engines, they surrounded the warehouse undetected. Though Damon’s feelings regarding the raid remained steady and focused, his nerves circled around the thought of Tiffany in danger. He couldn’t push their earlier moment from his mind. She’d known exactly what he’d been struggling to say, and despite that the words had still refused to leave his mouth, she cared for him, anyway.
Damn his stupid emotional inhibitions. If something happened and he’d never told her he loved her, he would never forgive himself. His failure would haunt h
im for the rest of his days.
No.
He couldn’t allow himself to think like that. Nothing would happen to her. Her safety was his highest priority.
“All units secured,” a muffled voice sounded over Damon’s handheld radio.
Damon pressed down the button for confirmation. “Copy. Tech unit establishing ground layout.”
Careful to not make any sound, one of his tech hunters slid open the side door of the van. He and two other hunters hopped out, the high-powered heat sensors in their hands. The three of them rushed around the building, hooking their equipment into place.
“Operative,” a voice whispered from outside the van.
Damon turned.
Shit.
The Sergeant was standing outside the van, dressed in full gear and—from the bulges underneath his short leather jacket—fully armed. He climbed into the vehicle and crouched next to Damon.
Damon gave a single nod to his commanding officer. “Good evening, Sergeant. With all due respect, sir, may I ask why you’re here?”
The Sergeant fixed Damon with a look that was half annoyance, half “What do you think I’m here for, idiot?” After a long moment, he said, “To make sure this goes smoothly, operative.”
Damon met his eyes. “With all due respect, sir, I can—”
The Sergeant jabbed his finger into Damon’s chest. If he’d been speaking above a whisper, he would have been barking at Damon, as usual. “Don’t tell me what you can and can’t do, Brock. I know you can do this or I wouldn’t have put you in charge, would I? I’m here to make sure you don’t call ‘go’ too soon. I can’t have you getting trigger-happy. I’m no imbecile. You think I’m forgetting this is your first raid since we lost Operative Solow? Not to mention Operative Solow’s sister is inside there. That’s the woman you love, Brock. Don’t think I don’t know that.”
Damon frowned. Damn. The Sergeant had always been so friggin’ perceptive. It pissed Damon the hell off, but at the same time he respected the man for it. The Sergeant grated on his every nerve, but he was the man who’d made Damon into the hunter he was, and for that he looked on the Sergeant almost as if he were a second father—and the Sergeant acted is if Damon were a surrogate son, always giving him a hard time because he expected more of him.
Static crackled over the radio. “All secure.”
Damon flipped three switches connected to the second monitor. A shadowy green layout of the building appeared on the screen. Damon’s eyes widened.
“Damn. Don’t know if I’ve ever seen more bloodsuckers in one place,” the Sergeant said as he shook his head.
Damon scanned the screen. There had to be nearly thirty vamps in the main area and...
He paused. Three on the far side of the building? His breath caught. Shit. This was not good.
“Prep your team, operative, and remain calm. We’ll get her out of there safely,” the Sergeant said.
* * *
TIFFANY’S HEART RACED as she faced Lucas. Her pulse thumped in her blood, and she could feel the rhythm all through her body. Standing tall, she glared at the bloodsucker. She wouldn’t show her fear. “What is this about, Lucas?”
An evil grin twisted his face. “That worthless hunter of yours, Damon Brock.” The way he said Damon’s name sounded as if he considered Damon the scourge of the earth.
Tiffany froze. It took everything she had to hold her face completely still. How did he know about Damon? She met his eyes and decided to bluff. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Lucas snarled. “Don’t be cute with me, human. You know exactly what I’m talking about. Your vampire slayer lover and his brigade of Execution Underground cronies positioned outside this building.” He stepped closer. “Lie and pretend you don’t know again, and I’ll sink my fangs into your throat.”
She held her breath, holding her face still and stern.
He walked toward the wall and leaned against it. “I know you killed Caius.”
All the neurons in Tiffany’s brain fired. How the hell was she going to get herself out of this? She tried to steady her breathing. Damon and the other E.U. members would rush in soon, and when Damon saw she wasn’t in the main room, he would come looking for her. Could she hold Lucas off until then?
Lucas went on. “But it’s not Caius’s life I care about. It’s my master, Apophis.”
Tiffany stared at him as calmly as she could. “If you expect the name to mean something to me, you’re going to be disappointed.”
A low growl escaped Lucas’s throat and a shiver rushed down her spine. “Apophis, named for the Egyptian God of chaos and war, my master—the ancient vampire your hunter murdered.”
She held her position. “Damon has destroyed hundreds of vampires, and you expect me to know the name of one in particular?”
Lucas chuckled. Moving faster than she could comprehend, he came to stand behind her, grasping her throat in one hand and her hair in the other. He led her toward a closed door that she assumed led into another room. “Perhaps you’ll put two and two together when you see what I’ve saved as a surprise for the two of you.”
Still gripping her hair, he wrenched the door open. A dark form loomed in the shadows. Lucas shoved her forward. She stumbled inside, and he flipped on the light. Her eyes locked onto the sight before her, and her heart stopped. Her stomach churned, and her whole body shook violently. Tears welled in her eyes as she choked down a scream.
Chained against the wall by his wrists stood her brother. At the sight of her, his irises flashed red and he hissed. His fangs descended as he fought against his restraints.
Bile rose in her throat. Unable to scream, she doubled over and vomited the entire contents of her stomach onto the floor. She panted, attempting to catch her breath, but to no avail. Her brain refused to process what stood directly in front of her.
Mark wasn’t dead. He was a vampire.
And he was infected...
“No doubt that hunter of yours told you that your brother’s body burned in the fire from the raid, and believe me, until this day he still thinks that to be true. But there’s one problem with fires....” He stepped up behind her, and the warmth of his disgusting breath brushed against her neck. “There are no bodies to be found.”
As fast as she could, Tiffany withdrew her stake from its hiding place and lunged toward Mark. But Lucas grabbed her midmovement. He dug his fingers into her hand, and the stake fell from her grasp as she felt the bones of her hand crushed beneath his fingertips. She crumpled to the ground.
Lucas kicked her spine, knocking the wind from her, then put his foot between her shoulder blades, holding her down. She prayed he wouldn’t move his foot low enough on her back to find her gun. “See, here’s what happened. That hunter of yours murdered my master, Apophis. Caius, being the coward he is, stabbed your brother with his own stake, then left to save his own skin. When I saw your brother lying there on the cold ground, bleeding, I saw my window of opportunity.”
He stomped harder on her spine. She reached for her stake, but the lacquered wood had landed just beyond her reach.
Lucas continued. “To make your hunter suffer, I turned your brother. I knew that to a vampire slayer of the Execution Underground, the only thing worse than death is being transitioned into one of the creatures they hunt.”
Foot still on her spine, he bent and picked up her stake, then released her. She gasped for air.
“At first your brother was a normal vampire—under my direction, of course, seeing as I’m his master. But, well...a little experiment backfired on us. As Caius may have told you, other than the master I lost, science is the one love of my life. When the new vampire movement asked me to create a serum that would allow us to walk by day without weakening, I decided to use your brother as a test subject.”
He pa
used to break her stake in two as if it were nothing more than a twig. “Turns out because it’s been tampered with, the DNA of the hunters of the Execution Underground doesn’t mix well with my vaccine, and, well, you know the virus that resulted.”
Tiffany stared up at her older brother. Mark hissed and spat like an animal, fighting to be freed. If he hadn’t been restrained, he would have torn into her flesh without hesitation.
“With the help of your brother, we were able to spread the virus and create a new strain of vampires by letting the newly turned feed on the humans he devoured.”
Tiffany’s stomach churned. If she’d had anything else there, she would have been sick again.
“Now I’ve combined the Execution Underground serum and my anti-sun vaccine into a single shot, and one injection can turn a new vampire into a flesh-eating monster. But for one special dose—” he pulled a syringe from his jacket pocket and held it up for Tiffany to see “—I’ve reversed the effect. Injected into the arm of an Execution Underground hunter, this will turn him into a ravenous flesh-hungry monster in minutes.” A smirked crossed his face. “And guess which hunter I’ve saved it for.”
Her eyes widened. Adrenaline raced through her body. Tears poured down her face. Dear Lord, no.
No, not Damon. She couldn’t lose him, too.
“When the hunters storm in here any minute, your hunter will come straight here, looking for you. One injection.” He grinned and raised the syringe into the light. “Or I can crush it now, and you won’t have to go through the horror of seeing the man you love murdered, like I did. I’ll give you a chance to save him—if you agree to sacrifice yourself.”
Tiffany lay on the cold concrete of the warehouse floor, her whole body trembling. All the warmth drained from her face. “Only if you get rid of the injection first.” She fixed him with a hard stare. Nothing was more important to her than Damon and his safety. She couldn’t take risks.
Lucas placed the syringe on the ground and positioned his foot overtop it.
Then she nodded. She would do anything to save Damon. Anything.
Shadow Hunter (The Execution Underground) Page 16